


The Winter Soldier

by BerylRoses



Series: Stumblin' In [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Awkward Flirting, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Humor, Mild Language, POV Third Person, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:07:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28486581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BerylRoses/pseuds/BerylRoses
Summary: In 2014, life was going pretty great for (Y/N) (Y/L/N). She lived in Washington D.C. with her occasionally-annoying best friend Sam, worked part-time down at the VA and was slowly finishing up the draft of her very-first novel. But a chance encounter with the world’s first super-soldier brought something into (Y/N)’s life that she hadn’t realized she’d craved: a chance to be a hero.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Reader
Series: Stumblin' In [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2086656
Comments: 18
Kudos: 69





	1. Chapter 1

_Chapter One_   
_March 2014_   
_Washington, D.C._

The sky was still streaked with the nighttime hues of pink and purple as two people got out of an old yellow Volkswagen Bug, one still half-asleep while the other bounced on the balls of his feet with pent-up energy.

“After our run, did you wanna go grocery shopping? I think we’re almost out of OJ but I’m not sure.”

(Y/N)’s tired eyes narrowed playfully at Sam as she hiked her messenger bag up higher on her shoulder and locked her car’s door. “I’d love to go grocery shopping after _your_ run; I was thinking of making spaghetti for dinner and I don’t think we have enough sauce…”

Sam sighed dramatically and brought his arm up to rest around her shoulders while they walked across the nearly-abandoned street. “Booksmart, you promised you’d go running with me today! You’re not gonna break a promise to your best friend, now, are you?”

“I never promised to go running with you, Sam, I only promised to drive you here at the ass-crack of dawn because your car’s in the shop. Besides, I _really_ need to finish the chapters I’ve been working on and I want to be sure I have time to look them over before I hand my book in. And by the way, I still hate that nickname.”

Chuckling, Sam withdrew his arm and once they reached the sidewalk, he began stretching out his legs. “Don’t worry, I’m just messing’ with you, roomie. Seriously, though, thanks for doing this for me. Who knows, maybe the fresh morning air’ll get the creative juices flowing and you’ll finish your writing before I finish my run!”

“Well, let’s hope that you’re right. I’m gonna go grab a hot coca and find a picnic table, enjoy your run!” She flashed him a sleepy smile before making her way to a cart and buying a large hot chocolate and a scone. After finding a picnic table that overlooked the reflecting pool of the Washington Monument and taking a few sips of the warm drink, she could feel herself begin to wake up. Watching the smooth water of the pool slowly light up as the sun rose, she couldn’t resist putting in her earbuds and listening to George Harrison’s ‘My Sweet Lord’ on her MP3 player as she stared at the gorgeous sight. I guess that waking up at five o’clock in the morning wasn’t completely horrible, she thought as the song came to an end and The Beach Boy’s ‘Wouldn’t It Be Nice?’ began playing.

“C’mon creative juices, start flowing!” (Y/N) muttered under her breath, taking her laptop out of her bag and opening it to reveal an incomplete chapter. She typed for an hour or so, taking sips of hot chocolate and nibbles of scone every few minutes as she worked, and at the end of the hour, she was surprised to see just how much she’d written. This’ll definitely get Greg off my ass for a while, she thought happily, finally looking away from her computer screen to see if she could spot Sam running. When she didn’t see him, she put her laptop back in her messenger bag, threw away her empty cup and scone wrapper and decided to take a walk around the National Mall and enjoy the music playing from her earbuds, thinking that they might cross paths. After making it past the National Gallery of Art, she finally spotted her roommate standing near the sidewalk and talking with a tall blonde man. The man was dressed in a pair of dark sweat pants and a snug-fitting grey tee shirt that clearly showed off his muscular build. Curious, she took her earbuds out and made her way towards the pair.

“…Everything you’ve missed jammed into one album.” Sam said; his usual smile widened when she finally reached them and he gave her a small wave. “Oh, hey Booksmart!”

“I’m warning you, Sam, if you keep calling me that I’m gonna-” (Y/N)’s threat died in her throat when the tall blonde man turned to look at her. She felt her knees weaken when the man’s bright blue eyes met hers and she was instantly in awe of his chiseled jaw and slightly curved lips; after a few moments, she realized with a flash that she was standing face-to-face with the one and only Captain America. “U-um, hi there. (Y/N) (Y/L/N), I’m Sam’s roommate and if he keeps calling me ‘Booksmart’, his future murderer.”

“Steve Rogers,” With a chuckle, Steve held his hand out and she shook it, unsurprised at how strong his grip was. When she let go, he pulled a small notebook and pencil out of the pocket of his sweat pants and began to write something down. “Okay, _Trouble Man_ soundtrack.” He looked back up at her with a friendly but small smile. “Since I’ve got this out, is there anything from the past few decades you think I should look up?”

Without a moment of hesitation, (Y/N) replied, “ _American Graffiti_ , 1972. It’s a good film representation of teenage life during the early sixties and the soundtrack’s pretty great too!”

Steve nodded in thanks. “I’ll put it on the list.” He quickly scribbling the information down and put his notebook away before pulling out his cell phone and reading a text. “All right, guys, duty calls. Thanks for the run, Sam.” The two men shook hands. “If that’s what you wanna call running.”

“Oh, that’s how it is?” “Oh, that’s how it is.” Steve’s eyes glimmered with mischief as he turned to (Y/N). “And thanks for the film recommendation, (Y/N), I’ll be sure to watch it.”

(Y/N) smiled back and once again shook his outstretched hand. “No problem, Cap, I’m always happy to recommend movies with good music!” Urgh, that sounded so weird even for you, she thought with an inward groan.

Sam shot her an amused look before glancing back at Steve. “Any time you wanna stop by the VA, make me look awesome in front of the girl at the front desk, just let me know.” “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Just then, a sleek black sports car pulled up to the curb and the tinted window rolled down to reveal none other than Black Widow in the driver’s seat. “Hey, guys. Any of you know where the Smithsonian is? I’m here to pick up a fossil.”

Steve rolled his eyes but hurried to get into the passenger seat. “You’re hilarious.”

“How you doin’?” (Y/N) whipped her head around to see Sam giving both the car and the woman driving an appreciative look and she couldn’t suppress her exasperated eye-roll.

Her instinctive reaction to Sam’s flirtations caused the red-haired woman to smile. “Hey.”

Steve looked out the window at her and Sam with another small smile and a shrug. “Can’t run everywhere.”

“No, you can’t.” Sam spoke with a grin; (Y/N) gave Steve a small wave as the black car pulled away from the curb and sped down the street.

She slowly lowered her hand, a bemused smile creeping onto her face as she absorbed the fact that she’d just met Captain America in the flesh; feeling a pair of eyes on her, she glanced beside her to see Sam’s arms crossed over his chest and a smirk on his lips. “What?”

Sam’s smirk widened. “Oh nothing, I’ve just never seen you fangirl before; it was weird to watch.”

“I wasn’t fangirling!”

“Uh-huh, you keep telling yourself that, Booksmart.” She elbowed him in the ribs and he laughed as they began making their way back to her car. “So, while I tried racing a super-soldier, did you finish writing your chapters?”

“Well, I just have a couple of lines of dialogue to brush up and then I’ll…wait, did you say that you tried _racing_ Captain America? God, you’re such a dumbass.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, what do you think? Is it the right balance between historical analysis and character development?” (Y/N) pressed her cell phone closer to her ear as she nervously paced around her and Sam’s living room. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Sam watching her from the kitchen but she avoided looking at him as she awaited her editor’s answer. “It’s just that I’m so far into this damn book that it’s difficult to separate what’s written down from what’s in my head, so I could _really_ use my editor’s opinion right now.”

“ _It’s perfect, (Y/N), you’ve written a real page-turner! And Mike really likes that new short story you sent in the other day; I could hear him laughing at all the jokes in his office this afternoon!_ ” Greg chuckled and (Y/N) did a little dance of excitement. “ _How far along are you with the rest of the novel?_ ”

“My writer’s block just ended this morning, so tomorrow I’m gonna head to the Air and Space Museum for some more information on Soviet and American Cold War-era missiles before I tackle the last couple of chapters.”

She could practically hear Greg nodding over the phone. “ _Well, good luck with the research, (Y/N). While you’re there, you should totally check out the Captain America exhibit, Mara and I went the other week and it was so cool!_ ”

“I’ll try and check it out if I have any free time.” She almost told him about meeting the infamous Captain earlier that day but she decided not to, wanting to end the phone call quickly so she and Sam could eat dinner; Greg had been obsessed with the super-soldier for as long as she could remember, so much so that he’d probably interrogate her on the phone for hours on end about their brief but memorable encounter. “I’ll talk to you later, Greg!”

“ _Talk to you later, (Y/N)!_ ”

(Y/N) hung up the phone and checked that it had actually hung up before letting out a happy cheer and dancing on the spot. This has gotta be the best day of my life, she thought with a grin as she practically skipped into the kitchen. “Crack open the good red wine, Sam, we’re celebrating tonight!”

“I told you that he’d like those chapters, they really do flesh out the characters and their motivations. And that short story was _really_ funny.” Sam gave her a genuine smile, dishing spaghetti and salad onto two plates before reaching for a bottle of unopened red wine. “So, you’re gonna visit the Smithsonian tomorrow?”

“Yep, just for a little last-minute research. I should be done before your meeting but if you want, you can take my car and drop me there so you can make sure you get to work on time.”

“Are you sure? How’ll you get to the VA for your shift when you’re done?”

(Y/N) crossed her arms and raised a brow at her roommate. “I’m a big girl, Sam, I’ll just take the bus. Besides, if anyone messes with me, I’ll just give ‘em my intimidating look and they’ll leave me alone.” To prove her point, she gave Sam her very best death-glare.

“ _Very_ intimidating, Booksmart,” Sam tried to suppress a chuckle as he poured red wine into two wine glasses. “Thanks for lending me your car; seriously, when mine gets out of the shop on Wednesday I’ll drive you wherever you want, whenever you want. I promise.”

“That sounded like a road trip invitation to me.”

“Nope, nope, hell no, Booksmart! Anything but that!” Sam protested and (Y/N) laughed while she took their plates to the dining room table and sat. “I can’t sit in a car with you and your weird-ass music for that long; I mean, just pick a genre and stick with it!”

She only rolled her eyes at his familiar complaint. “It’s called _eclectic_ , not ‘weird-ass’, Birdbrain; I happen to like music from every genre and era unlike you, Mr. Only-Listens-To-Motown.”

Sam raised his eyebrows as he sat opposite of her at the table. “Oh, so that’s how it is?”

“Oh, that’s how it is!” They laughed and began eating. “Speaking of the Running Man, do you think he’ll ever stop by the VA like he said he would?”

Her roommate only smirked. “What, hoping that he’ll come to visit while you’re working?”

“You’re hilarious, Sam, but no, I was actually wondering if he’d show up to _participate_ in a meeting. I mean, the guy’s been through a lot in the past two years; it might do him good to talk about it to someone if he hasn’t already, but I get the feeling that he’s not exactly a sharing guy.” I can’t even imagine how he’s coping with all this, she thought with a pang of sympathy, remembering his small smiles and guarded expression earlier that day, or if he’s even coping at all.

“Oh,” Sam’s smirk faded and he thought for a moment before speaking. “Maybe. He definitely has some walls built up but who knows, maybe we’ll see him stroll through the doors of the VA ready to break ‘em down. He’s gotta be the one to make that decision, though.” He twirled some noodles around his fork and took a bite before closing his eyes and moaning. “(Y/N), this spaghetti is _amazing_!”

“Aw, thanks Sam. I used more salt than usual, and I added a pinch more minced garlic in the sauce. Can you really taste the difference?"

“Mmmm, definitely!” They spent the rest of the evening eating spaghetti and watching _Clue_ , one of (Y/N) and Sam’s favorite films. Her mind kept wandering, however, to Steve Rogers and she couldn’t help but hope that she might see him again someday. What an interesting guy, she thought with a smile, snuggling closer to Sam and watched the murder-mystery comedy unfold onscreen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Linked below is the Spotify playlist for this fanfiction, and it'll be updated every time I post a new chapter. Enjoy!  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4BenknAqQQnOWY8NmSa23V


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter Two_

“You know, this car’s a little…cramped.”

(Y/N) crossed her arms and stared down Sam as he drove down the crowded street. “If you don’t like my car, then you can walk all the way to the VA and I’ll take it.”

He only chuckled. “Cool your jets, Booksmart, I never said I didn’t like it; I was only making a statement.”

“Well, keep your statements to yourself, Birdbrain; I can handle you insulting my music and I can even handle that _goddamn_ nickname but if you insult my baby again, I’ll be forced to kill you.” Giving him a final glare, she looked out the window as they approached the Air and Space Museum of the Smithsonian. “I already texted Rita and told her that I might be a little late to the meeting, but could you remind her for me?”

“Of course; are the coffee grounds still in the upper kitchen cabinet or did she move ‘em somewhere else?”

“As far as I know, they’re still in the kitchen cabinet but she might’ve moved them again. I swear, that woman has no sense of organization whatsoever.” The car came to a stop at the curb. “Thanks for the ride, Sam! And take care of my baby!”

Sam reached over and gave her a one-armed hug. “Don’t worry, your baby’s safe with me. Have fun with your research!”

(Y/N) got out of the car with her messenger bag and closed the door, giving Sam a small wave as he pulled away from the curb and merged into traffic before making her way to the enormous building. After buying her ticket, she began wandering around the museum, a little surprised by how crowded it was for a Tuesday morning. Must be field-trip day, she thought with a grin as several small children in school uniforms rushed past her. To help her focus on her research, she put one earbud in and switched on her MP3 player; she snorted in amusement when she hit shuffle and ‘Rocket Man’ by Elton John began playing.

She walked through the largest room, which was filled with dozens of aircraft, and she made a beeline to her favorite: _The Spirit of St. Louis_ , flown from New York to Paris by Charles Lindbergh. Since she was a little girl, it amazed her how he was able to achieve something that should’ve been impossible to do in that day and age and his accomplishment inspired her, especially now that she was finally working towards her own dream to become a writer. A shame the guy ended up being a shitty racist, she thought to herself as she glanced at the famous airplane.

After that, she came across a Soviet Cold War-era missile and spent nearly a half an hour taking notes on its appearance and the background information on its display card. She couldn’t find any American Cold War-era missiles so she took out her earbud and went to ask an elderly security guard where she could find one. When she explained that she was researching for her novel, the older man excitedly led her to one and began giving her a detailed history of it for at least a half an hour. When he finished, her hand was thoroughly cramped but she had four pages full of extremely helpful notes; she thanked him profusely for his help and decided to take a break from research in order to grab a sandwich in the museum’s restaurant. Once she found an unoccupied table and began on her turkey and Swiss sandwich, she checked her phone and found a couple of texts from Sam.

**_Birdbrain: How’s the research going? You’re supposed to be looking at Cold War missiles, not the biceps on the Captain America mannequin!_ **

**_Birdbrain: Btw, Rita forgot where she moved the coffee so I had to go and buy some more_ ** **_☹_ ** **_She’s officially not in charge of refreshments anymore lol_ **

Smiling to herself, (Y/N) typed back a quick reply.

**_(Y/N): You’re hilarious, Sam. Research is going great, I’m taking a break for lunch before I do anymore. Lol I call dibs on NOT telling Rita the bad news, she might stop bringing in fresh baked cookies every Friday if I offend her!_ **

Once she finished her lunch, (Y/N) grabbed her messenger bag and made her way back into the museum. Just as she reached for her notebook and earbud again, a brightly lit sign caught her eye. It showed a large photograph of Captain America with the words ‘Captain America: A Living Legend and Symbol of Courage’; a steady stream of people was filtering towards the exhibit. I’ve got a lot of research done already and if I don’t see it, Greg will talk my ass off about it for the rest of time, she thought with resolve before following the crowd into the exhibit. She couldn’t deny that she was also a little intrigued; as a child she loved learning about all areas of history, but she remembered that studying Captain America had been the most interesting part of sixth grade U.S. History for her.

The exhibit was filled with dozens of artifacts from Steve Roger’s life, including one of the motorcycles he rode during World War II and some clothes that belonged to him before he received the super-soldier serum; every so often a narration would play from the speakers, detailing the super-soldier’s life.

_“A symbol to the nation. A hero to the world. The story of Captain America is one of honor, bravery and sacrifice.”_

While most of the other people in the exhibit were crowded around the displays of him during the war, (Y/N) chose to read the displays about the younger Steve Rogers first. A photograph of a young man with a thin face and frail-looking body was accompanied by a plaque that described Steve Rogers as a sickly young man who was always in poor health. However, (Y/N) could see a fire in his eyes that told her there was so much more to him than that.

_“Denied enlistment due to poor health, Steven Rogers was chosen for a program unique in the annals of American warfare. One that would transform him into the world’s first super-soldier.”_

The next display showed a picture of a kindly-looking older man with glasses and a laboratory coat shaking hands with a smaller Steve Rogers. Dr. Abraham Erskine, she thought with a smile; her older brother had admired the German scientist while they were growing up, so she already knew a lot about him. She always thought that it was sad how most people didn’t know the name of the brilliant scientist who helped create such an impactful hero as Captain America.

_“Battle tested, Captain America and his Howling Commandoes quickly earned their stripes. Their mission: taking down Hydra, the Nazi rogue science division.”_

The next display was larger, showing seven mannequins dressed in the uniforms of Captain America and the Howling Commandoes. It was accompanied by short biographies of each man, except for Sergeant James Buchanan ‘Bucky’ Barnes; he had an entire display dedicated to him and after reading about the others, she made her way over to it.

_“Best friends since childhood, Bucky Barnes and Steven Rogers were inseparable on both schoolyard and battlefield. Barnes is the only Howling Commando to give his life in service to his country.”_

She felt sick to her stomach as she read how he was tortured after being captured by Hydra in 1943; the smirking picture of him from before the war showed her that he had been so full of life, and it was all the more saddening to see the dates at the bottom of the display: 1917-1944.

Looking up at his photograph, she sent the Sergeant a silent thank-you for his service before turning back to look at the displays from Steve Roger’s early life that included some sketches he’d done before the war. It was fascinating to read about his early life during the Great Depression, but she was a little miffed that none of the displays discussed how he dealt with living in a world where physically-disabled people were being actively discriminated against and vilified by the Nazis. Inspiration hit her like a freight train; she pulled her notebook out of her messenger bag and quickly jotted down some information about Steve Roger’s early life and what she already knew about the persecution of the disabled in the 1940’s. That could be the topic of another book, she thought with a proud smile as she wrote, the world should know more about this.

With her nose still in her notebook, she turned and ran face-first into a man’s chest; she dropped her notebook, scattering loose paper everywhere and making her quickly drop to the floor to gather them.

“Sorry! Here, let me help you with that,” The man knelt before her and picked up several pieces of paper. “I wasn’t paying attention, I’m sorry-”

“I’m the one who should say sorry, I was so wrapped up in writing that I didn’t see…” She glanced up and her voice nearly faltered when she realized who he was. “Steve?”

Steve’s head shot up from the papers he was organizing and his azure eyes widened with recognition from underneath the brim of his baseball cap. “(Y/N), right? From yesterday morning?”

“That’s me,” Silently cursing the blush in her cheeks, (Y/N) took the papers from his hands and stuffed them all inside her notebook before they stood. “What brings you to the Smithsonian?”

Steve shrugged noncommittally as he adjusted the bill of his baseball cap. “I had the day off, and I guess I just wanted to see what all the fuss was about. What about you?”

She smiled and gestured to her notebook. “Research. I’m writing a novel, so I was looking up information on Soviet Cold War-era missiles. Then when I finished with that, I thought I’d also see what all the fuss was about. I actually had another spark of writing inspiration before I smacked into you just now.” 

“You’re a writer? Have I heard of any of your work before?”

“Well, this novel I’m working on is actually my first.” They moved farther away from the display so that some children could get a better look. “I’m trying to become a historical fiction novelist, and I chose to write about the Cold War for my first novel.” Steve nodded in interest and glanced back at the display before them. “So, what do you think? Is everything here historically accurate?”

That made Steve smile. “Pretty much. What do _you_ think of it?”

“I don’t really know yet; on one hand, I think it’s great that an exhibit like this exists to educate people, especially children, about history, but part of me can’t stop thinking that it’s also an invasion of privacy.” Steve’s brow furrowed in confusion so she continued with a gesture towards the display. “Like these, for example. These are private sketches of your family and friends that I’m sure you never meant for others to see. And over there, they have your _underwear_ on display, for God’s sake!” Steve let out a small chuckle. “I don’t know, I think that they should show more respect when they create exhibits like this, especially if the person they’re about is still alive. You may be Captain America, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve a little privacy, too.” She glanced up at Steve, who was looking at her with a curious expression in his eyes. “What is it?”

Steve shook his head, a smile making its way onto his face. “Nothing, you just sound a little different from most of the people I’ve met since coming out of the ice.” They both looked at the display in silence for a few moments; (Y/N) wanted him to elaborate on his statement but she also didn’t want to pry. “It’s lucky that I ran into you, actually, I was gonna try and stop by the VA today but I have no idea what the address is.”

She nodded and pulled out her phone. “Oh, I’ve got it right here! Let me see, where did I-ah, found it! It’s 50 Irving Street Northwest. All you have to do it go down North Capitol-wait, it might be 6th Street instead…and of course, no signal in here…urgh, if I had my car with me, I’d just give you a ride since I’m going there later anyways but Sam took it to work this morning…”

“I could always give you a ride, if you want? It’d be no trouble at all.”

(Y/N) smiled brightly, touched by his sincere offer. “Okay, then. I’m pretty much done here, so just let me know when you wanna leave.”

“Let’s go,” Steve shoved his hands into his pockets and the two of them left the exhibit. “So, how far along are you with your novel?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“…so anyway, my publisher convinced me to change the title to _For Queen and Country_. I’d hate to boost his ego, but it sounds a lot better than anything I thought of.”

The two of them walked across the National Mall towards the large parking lot. “In my day, authors usually sent a completed novel to a publisher instead of sending it in separate parts. I guess that’s changed, too?”

“No, that hasn’t changed; this publishing company’s co-owned by one of my old friends from high school who also happens to be the only person I trust to edit my writing. My situation _is_ a little unorthodox, though; to convince his publishing partner to give a first-time novelist like me a chance, he’s been giving him some of my short stories to read. His partner likes them so far, so as long as I keep sending in things that he enjoys he might agree to publish my novel once it’s finished.”

“Sounds stressful.”

(Y/N) shrugged and adjusted the strap of her messenger bag. “Well, it’s not ideal but it makes balancing research and work a little easier, and I’m not about to quit now, not while I’m so close to being published. But what about you? What’re you doing to keep busy these days?”

Steve kept his eyes trained on the Washington Monument in the distance. “I work for S.H.I.E.L.D. Whenever I have some free time I read the internet and go through my list to mark things off. I didn’t have much to do this morning, so I listened to some of the soundtrack from _American Graffiti_ ; it’s not what I’m used to, but I liked it. All the songs sound unique from one another.”

“Right? My mom was born in the sixties so she grew up listening to that type of music. Whenever my brother and I had to help on chore day, she’d put on her old records so that we’d have something fun to listen to while we cleaned the house.” They reached the parking lot and began walking through the aisles. “Sam thinks that music from that era is too cheesy, but this is also the guy who thinks that Marvin Gaye’s better than Jimi Hendrix so what the hell does he know?” Steve stopped next to a motorcycle and her heart leapt in her chest at the sight. “Is this yours?”

He nodded. “Yep, it’s a Harley-Davidson Street 750. The one back there in the exhibit’s a Harley, too, a modified ’42 WLA Liberator. I’ve always preferred motorcycles to cars, so it was nice to see that they haven’t changed too much over the-” He glanced at her and his face instantly fell. “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you that I didn’t have a car. If you’re not comfortable with-”

“No, no, it’s okay, I’ve always wanted to ride a motorcycle!” He looked surprised by her answer but smiled back nonetheless. “Do you have a spare helmet?” He pulled it out of the back compartment and handed it to her, and she quickly put it on. “Wait, what about yours?”

“Super-soldier, remember?” Steve flashed her a teasing grin before swinging his leg over and sitting down. “Hop on.” Once she clambered on behind him and adjusted her messenger bag, he said, “I’ll be able to hear you over the engine noise, so feel free to give directions as we go. And make sure to hold on tight, okay?”

“Sir, yes, sir!”

Steve chuckled before revving up the engine and backing up out of the parking spot. Startled by the sudden movement, (Y/N) quickly moved her hands from beneath her seat to Steve’s waist. He seemed to be expecting this, because he immediately took hold of her hands and gently pulled so that her arms were wrapped tightly around his torso. With that, he took off down the street and she couldn’t help but let out a laugh of delight before instructing him on where to go. He was a responsible driver for the most part, but every once in a while he’d speed up suddenly, causing her to let out a yelp of surprise and tighten her hold on him each time as his body shook with suppressed laughter. After about fifteen minutes, they finally reached the VA.

As soon as he parked in front of the building and switched off the engine, Steve turned to her with the widest smile she’d ever seen on him. “So, how was your first ever motorcycle ride?”

“Amazing!” She let go of him and stumbled off of the motorcycle before pulling the helmet off. “I might even have to trade in my baby for one!” Steve’s eyes widened in alarm and (Y/N) hastily explained, “No, no, that’s just my dumb nickname for my Volkswagen Bug! I don’t have an _actual_ baby, of course, and if I did I certainly wouldn’t _trade_ it…um, so yeah, no baby…and no guy, either, in case you’re wondering. I’m single, single like a Pringle.” (Y/N)’s feeble smile fell and she groaned in embarrassment at her own cringe-filled words. “You can stop my dumb rambling anytime now, Steve…”

Steve’s amused smile only widened. “Don’t worry, it’s not dumb. Entertaining, yeah, but definitely not dumb.”

“You know, you’re a lot more of a pain in the ass than the history books make you out to be.”

Steve opened his mouth to reply but his phone went off in his pocket, so he quickly reached for it. His smile fell as he read the text and when he looked back up, he had a familiar guarded look on his face. “I’m sorry but I’ve gotta go, something just came up. I’ll try and make it for the end of the meeting, though.”

“Okay, I’ll be sure to let Sam know!” She got out of the way as Steve revved up the engine again and pulled out of the parking spot; after giving her a half-hearted wave, he sped off onto the street and disappeared from view. I wonder what came up, she thought with a frown as she hurried into the VA, giving Maria at the front desk a wave of greeting. Whatever it was, it seemed important but she was glad that she was able to spend a little more time with him.

“Hey Booksmart, I was just setting up, Rita left when I told her the bad news so-geez, what the hell happened to your hair?” Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise as she entered the small meeting room.

(Y/N) hastily ran her fingers through her tangled locks. “Honestly, Sam, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you. By the way, you’ll _never_ guess who I ran into at the museum!”

Sam went back to stacking empty cups next to the coffee maker. “Was it that annoying chick from the grocery store, the one who tried to steal the bananas from our shopping cart that one time?”

“No, not her. Steve Rogers.”

“Wait, you’re telling me that the dude visited his own exhibit? That must’ve been weird for him.”

She nodded and began folding napkins before neatly stacking them in a pile. “Yep, and he said he’s gonna try and come to the meeting today.”

“Nice…looks like you’ll be able to stare into those pretty baby-blue eyes again, girl.”

“Oh, you mean like how you stare at Maria from the front desk all the time, Birdbrain?”

“…Touché.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Linked below is the Spotify playlist for this fanfiction, and it'll be updated every time I post a new chapter. Enjoy!  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4BenknAqQQnOWY8NmSa23V


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Disclaimer for a brief discussion of PTSD*

_Chapter Three_

After placing sugar packets and stirring sticks next to the coffee maker, (Y/N) took a seat beside the refreshment table and watched as Sam took his place at the front of the crowded room and began the meeting. One by one, each person would share their struggles with PTSD and how it had affected their lives as civilians; with each person’s story, (Y/N)’s heart clenched in sympathy. These vets have put their lives on the line to protect us, they don’t deserve to suffer, she thought with an inward sigh. She couldn’t count the number of times she’d woken Sam up from a nightmare or had seen him suddenly grow silent and have to distract him from his memories of war. But it was wonderful that people like Sam, people who face the same exact struggles, run programs to help each other out.

Seeing movement out of the corner of her eye, (Y/N) turned to see Steve Rogers leaning against the doorframe of the room, his arms crossed over his chest as he listened to the meeting. Smiling and tugging her sweater tighter around her, (Y/N) turned her attention back to the woman speaking. “The thing is I think it’s getting worse. A cop pulled me over last week, he thought I was drunk. I swerved to miss a plastic bag. I thought it was an IED.”

Sam nodded. “Some stuff you leave there, other stuff you bring back. It’s our job to figure out how to carry it. Is it gonna be in a big suitcase or in a little man-purse? It’s up to you.” Everyone clapped and began standing, so (Y/N) jumped to her feet to man the table. She greeted each person with a smile as they grabbed cookies and filled their cups with coffee, delighted to see so many new faces among the usual crowd. After about twenty minutes of mingling and making small talk, the crowd started to leave so she decided to begin packing up the refreshments as Sam bid them goodbye out in the hallway.

“Don’t take those away those cookies just yet, darlin’, I wanna bring one home to my gran’daughter.”

(Y/N) looked up to see Gary, an older man with an incredibly bushy grey beard and a Vietnam War veteran’s baseball cap, and she smiled brightly before offering him the half-full container. “Take the whole thing if you’d like, Gary, and be sure to say hello to Katie for me!”

That made Gary grin toothily as he took the container. “You know, darlin’, you’re sweeter than this whole damn box of cookies. I’ll be seein’ you next week!” (Y/N) gave him a small wave and resumed cleaning as he limped away.

“You’re pretty popular around here.”

She turned away from the coffee pot and smiled when she saw Steve standing before her, his blue eyes glimmering and his hands shoved in his pockets. “If I am, it’s only ‘cause I give away free cookies; the vets that visit all have a massive sweet-tooth, you know.”

“Are you a vet, too?”

“Nah, I just work here.” She tossed several used paper coffee cups into the trash and chuckled. “A year ago, when I finally graduated with my master’s degree, I started writing my novel and since I was writing about soldiers and government agents I needed to interview some about their personal experiences. So, I decided to come down to the VA. I met with Sam, who had just started working here, and asked if I could interview some people for my writing. He agreed, and I spent the whole day just talking to the vets. All sorts of vets, too; men, women, old, young, you name it. And at the end of the day, after hearing about their struggles with PTSD and how hard their lives became once they returned to civilian life, I went back to Sam and asked if he needed any part-time employees. He said yes, and we’ve been best friends ever since.” Steve smiled, and the impressed look he was giving her caused her to blush so she hurriedly changed the subject. “So, did everything work out earlier? It’s just that it seemed a little serious, so I hope that everything’s okay.”

Steve’s smile fell a little but he nodded. “Yeah, everything’s fine…I was just visiting a friend who hasn’t been doing too well lately.”

(Y/N) impulsively placed a comforting hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, that sounds difficult. I hope they get better soon.” The ghost of a sympathetic smile pulled at the corner of her mouth and Steve’s eyes softened after a moment; realizing that her hand was still resting on his arm, she hastily withdrew it and began folding the tablecloth to keep her hands busy. “Um, Sam and I were planning on going out to dinner after we finish packing up, you’re welcome to join us if you want.”

She glanced up at him and saw a glint of something in his eyes, but it disappeared before she could get a closer look. “Thanks for the offer but I’ll have to pass; I’ve already got some plans later…”

“That’s okay, maybe next time!” (Y/N) smiled, but inside she couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment.

Just then, Sam walked into the room with a stack of pamphlets in his hands. “Pretty good turnout today, huh? Five new faces _and_ Captain America!”

Steve chuckled. “Well, I’m glad that I stopped by.” He glanced at the clock on the wall before continuing, “I should probably get going, but it was good to see you two again.”

(Y/N) shook his hand. “I’m not gonna lie, it was a _little_ weird seeing you in your own exhibit earlier but it was great hanging out with you!”

“You too, and good luck with _For Queen and Country_ , I’ll keep my eye out for it in the bookshops.” His bright smile caused her heartbeat to once-again quicken as their hands dropped.

“It was good seeing you too, Cap, you made me look _really_ awesome in front of Maria, so thanks for that.” Sam grinned and shook his outstretched hand.

“Glad I could help, Sam; see you two around!” Steve gave them a small wave before turning and walking out of the room.

Tearing her eyes away from the doorway, (Y/N) resumed her cleaning and glanced at Sam. “What do you feel like tonight, Thai or burgers?”

Sam grinned and began unplugging the coffee maker. “Burgers. So, did you have a nice day chilling with your new boyfriend, Booksmart?”

“ _Sam_ …”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that evening, (Y/N) sat down at her desk and put her music on shuffle before flicking through her notebook to the pages of notes she’d taken that day at the Smithsonian. She bit back a smile when she recognized the difference between the carefully printed notes she’d taken by herself versus the illegible scribbles taken from the elderly security guard’s long-winded explanations. He _was_ kind of a fast talker, wasn’t he, she thought to herself; as a way of honoring the enthusiastic old man, she ultimately decided to name one of her minor characters after him.

“ _Stan_.” She sounded out the name and gave a satisfied nod. “Yeah, that’s got a nice ring to it…”

(Y/N), now finally having all the information she needed to best describe Soviet Cold War missiles, wrote for nearly three hours straight, only taking breaks to skip songs or to glance down at her notes. She would’ve probably continued writing well into the next morning except that her eyesight was beginning to blur around the edges, an unfortunate symptom of exhaustion.

Well, you _have_ had a pretty busy day today, (Y/N) silently reasoned as she saved her evening’s progress and booted down her laptop. Since Sam was already fast asleep in the room across the hall, she went about her bedtime routine as quietly as she could, washing her face and brushing her teeth before tiptoeing back into her room. She slipped on her mismatched pajama set and was about to crawl into bed when the record player on her bedside table caught her eye. Making her way over to what Sam affectionately called ‘The DJ Bookcase,’ she scanned the shelf devoted solely to her record collection until the right one stood out to her, and then she carefully placed the record on the turntable and lowered the needle. After a moment, the soft tones of Glenn Miller’s ‘Stardust’ filled her room and with a smile, she finally got into bed and turned to watch the record spinning on the turntable.

Thoughts of the super-soldier who’d inspired her choice in bedtime music began to fill her mind, making her smile softly to herself. (Y/N) had enjoyed seeing Steve again, even if it had been in a highly unconventional place like the Smithsonian, and she quietly marveled at how effortless it had been to talk to the larger-than-life man. He really _was_ different from how the history books portrayed him: not only was he kind and polite, but he was also intelligent, sarcastic and extremely understanding. Also a little lost, I expect, (Y/N) thought, remembering his guarded expressions and withdrawn replies whenever she’d ask him a personal question; it couldn’t be easy adjusting to a brand-new reality, especially without a fixed support system to rely on.

“Hopefully he ends up getting the help he needs.” (Y/N) murmured to herself, her sleepy eyes continuing to watch the rotating record as more thoughts of Steve Rogers filled her mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Linked below is the Spotify playlist for this fanfiction, and it'll be updated every time I post a new chapter. Enjoy!  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4BenknAqQQnOWY8NmSa23V


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter Four_

_“It’s such bullshit! Captain America’s a criminal now?!”_

“I know, Greg.”

_“They haven’t even said what he’s done!”_

“Yep, it’s ridiculous…”

_“How can they organize a manhunt for him but not say what he’s supposedly done?!”_

(Y/N) pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a frustrated groan. “Greg, you’re my friend and I love you but I can’t keep having this conversation with you.”

The line was silent for a moment. _“What do you mean?”_

“We’ve been having the exact same conversation for almost a half an hour! You can’t believe that Cap’s a criminal, I agree, you complain that they haven’t said what he’s wanted for, I agree, then you start going all ‘Law and Order’ on me!” She exclaimed, immediately regretting her outburst; with a sigh, she sat down in her desk chair and rubbed her forehead. “I’m sorry, Greg, that was rude. I don’t like what’s going on either; Captain America stands for freedom and honor, he always has, and it just seems… _wrong_ that he’s the subject of a manhunt. I seriously doubt that _Captain America_ of all people did anything to break the law.”

_“Wow, when did you become such a big Cap fan?”_

“I went to his exhibit when I was at the Air and Space Museum yesterday, and I guess it got me interested.” (Y/N) half-lied, fidgeting with the sleeve of her sweater as she pressed her phone closer to her ear. “Anyway, the reason I called was to tell you that it might take me a little longer to get the draft of my book to you; I still need to look over the last couple of chapters and with everything happening…it might be hard to focus on writing today.”

_“Don’t worry about it, Mike’s busy reading through a nine-hundred-page thriller that was sent in this morning so that’ll give you some time. Sorry to cut this short but I’ve gotta go, I have to check on mine and Mara’s dinner reservation for tonight, so I’ll talk to you later, (Y/N)!”_

“Talk to you later, Greg!” (Y/N) hung up and set her cell phone down on the desk with a sigh. Ever since she and Sam turned on the television at breakfast and saw the breaking news, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was horribly wrong; Steve Rogers wouldn’t be on the run from S.H.I.E.L.D. unless he had a damn good reason to be. I’m sure he’s fine, he’s probably been through much tougher scrapes than this, she thought to herself with forced optimism as she turned on her laptop and began typing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Humming along to Billy Joel’s ‘Movin’ Out’, (Y/N)’s fingers flew across her keyboard as she typed and she smiled, proud of the fact that her writer’s block from the week before was now officially over and that she was so close to completing her very first novel. Not bad, not bad at all, she thought, hitting the ‘save’ button and stretching her arms over her head to relieve the build-up tension in her shoulders.

“Now _this_ is good music, Booksmart!”

She spun her desk chair around to see Sam standing in the doorway of her bedroom and raised her eyebrow as she turned down her music. “Oh, so Billy Joel’s okay but everything else I listen to is garbage?”

Sam gave her a teasing eye-roll. “I never said that your music was _garbage_ , I just said it was weird. How’s the writing going today?”

“I edited twelve pages and just spent an hour trying to describe a Soviet Cold War-era missile, so it’s been okay. How was work?”

“It was good, I didn’t have any meetings scheduled so I spent most of the day playing chess with the old timers. I swear, I think Gary cheats but I can’t figure out how he does it…”

(Y/N) shrugged. “Or maybe you should just accept the fact that you’re _terrible_ at chess and the old timers take great pleasure in seeing you lose.”

“Ha, ha, very funny. You still cool with driving me to the shop to pick up my car?”

(Y/N) got up, turning off her computer and unplugging her MP3 player from her speaker with a grin. “Of course! Driver picks the music, though!” She laughed and practically skipped out of the room as Sam let out a groan of defeat and followed her. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic, Birdbrain, it’s not like I’m making you listen to a CD of ambient throat singing!”

“Wouldn’t be surprised if you had some of that…”

Five minutes later, they were on the road and the two of them were singing along to her one of Panic! At The Disco’s newest singles at the top of their lungs; out of the corner of her eye she could see other drivers shooting them odd looks but she couldn’t care less, she was enjoying herself far too much.

Sam chuckled as the song came to a finish. “ _Damn_ , their new album is good. You know, I didn’t start listening to alt-rock until I met you.”

“Then you should be thanking me for bringing such good music into your life!” Giggling, (Y/N) turned down the volume and glanced over at the cheerful man sitting beside her, her smile faltering as she asked, “Do you think he’s okay, Sam?”

Her roommate’s expression grew serious and he shook his head. “I really don’t know. I saw on CNN earlier that inside sources claim he’s wanted by S.H.I.E.L.D. in connection to the assassination of their director, but I don’t buy it. The guy we’ve met, who’s so dedicated to his job that he hasn’t bothered getting a life outside of it, wouldn’t be a part of something like that. I think something else’s up and I’ll bet anything he’s out there trying to figure it out.”

(Y/N) bit her bottom lip, nodding after a moment. “Yeah, me too.”

"Just you wait, this whole mess with S.H.I.E.L.D.'ll be cleared up in no time. I'm calling it right now, Steve's gonna ride up to the VA on his motorcycle and dramatically whisk you off your feet, and the two of you are gonna ride off into the sunset together while one of those sappy love songs you pretend not to like plays in the background." Sam's teasing smirk widened when her cheeks flushed. "C'mon, Booksmart, you both were mooning over each other like teenagers after the meeting yesterday; I felt like I was in the live studio audience of a soap opera taping."

"You know, I could always kick you out of the car and make you walk all the way to the shop, if you'd prefer."

"And I'd still get there before you 'cause you drive like a grandma..."

Soon after, she pulled into the auto repair shop’s lot, parking under the shade of a tree before turning to Sam with a smile. “Did you want me to stay just in case your car isn’t ready yet?”

“That would be great, actually, thanks!” Sam gave her a grin before getting out of the car and heading into the shop.

(Y/N) rolled down the windows and sighed when she felt the soft spring breeze against her skin. Taking advantage of the peaceful moment, she let her imagination wander and began brainstorming different stories and characters in her head. You should probably finish the book you’re writing before you start on another one, she thought with a playful eye-roll. Her childhood dream of becoming a published author was in the middle of coming true, and she couldn’t be any happier about it.

Just then, her eyes drifted to a silver truck that was driving past the parking lot. It was going fast so she couldn’t get a very good look at the driver, but for a split second she could have sworn that the man driving the truck had the same blonde hair and chiseled jaw as Steve Rogers. Chalking it up to worry for the runaway super-soldier, she closed her eyes and murmured, “Whatever he’s up to, I hope that he’s staying safe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Linked below is the Spotify playlist for this fanfiction, and it'll be updated every time I post a new chapter. Enjoy!  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4BenknAqQQnOWY8NmSa23V


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Disclaimer for a brief discussion of PTSD*

_Chapter Five_

Yawning loudly into her hand, (Y/N) poured some milk into her bowl of chocolate Cheerios, grabbed a spoon and sat on a stool at the kitchen counter. She turned on her laptop and began reading through the day’s top news headlines while she ate her breakfast; thankfully, it appeared that the manhunt for Captain America was still going on, which meant that S.H.I.E.L.D. hadn’t yet apprehended him.

The backdoor of the house opened and Sam entered, breathing heavily and covered in a layer of perspiration; a smile brightened his face once he noticed her presence. “’Morning, Booksmart!”

“Hey Sam, you have a good run today?”

“Yeah, it was okay.” Sam wiped his brow with his sleeve, his expression suddenly sheepish. “Um…thanks again for last night, (Y/N). It really meant a lot to me.”

The night before, Sam had another intense nightmare about the last Air Force mission he’d flown with his partner, Riley. (Y/N) was woken up by his loud moaning and thrashing from the room across the hall, so she quickly threw on her bathrobe and went to him. As she’d done countless times over the past year, she’d carefully wrapped her arms around him and spoke soothing words until his eyes had eventually fluttered open, and as his face filled with pain, Sam flung his arms around her and they fell asleep in each other’s embrace. It hadn’t been the first time she’d helped him through one of his nightmares, and she doubted that it would be the last.

“I’m your best friend, Birdbrain, it’s in my job description. That, and annoying you whenever I think you deserve some annoying.” Her soft smile turned into a frown as Sam opened the refrigerator and pulled out the carton of orange juice. “I swear to God, Sam, if you drink straight from that carton I’m gonna have to kill you. That’s _disgusting_!”

Sam’s loud laugh was cut short by a knock on the backdoor. They exchanged matching looks of confusion before Sam headed for the door, (Y/N) following closely behind. He raised the blinds and opened the door to reveal Steve Rogers and Black Widow standing on their back porch, both covered head-to-toe in grime and looking completely worn-out. “…Hey, man.”

Steve’s weary eyes glanced between the two of them. “I’m sorry about this. We need a place to lay low.”

Black Widow’s smile was apologetic as she elaborated, “Everyone we know is trying to kill us.”

(Y/N) and Sam exchanged a look before he opened the door wider and said, “Not everyone.” With looks of gratitude, the pair hurried into the house and Sam closed the door behind them, careful to close the blinds and lock the deadbolt.

“We haven’t been properly introduced; I’m Natasha Romanoff.”

(Y/N) smiled politely and shook Natasha’s outstretched hand. “(Y/N) (Y/L/N).” After Sam introduced himself to her, (Y/N) gestured to the hallway and continued. “You guys are welcome to use our shower if you wanted to clean up a little; I think I may even have some spare clothes somewhere…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After showing Steve and Natasha the bathroom down the hall and letting them use Sam’s bedroom for some extra privacy, (Y/N) dug through her closet until she found the clothes that her brother and girlfriend had accidentally left when they’d visited last; she’d been meaning to send them back, but it would seem that the two fugitives they were harboring had more use for them. Pausing a moment in front of the closed bedroom door, she placed the box on the floor and hurried back to her room to get dressed before going back to the kitchen. When she got there, Sam was in the middle of scrambling eggs so she quietly began buttering some toast.

“They didn’t look too good, Sam. What do you think happened to them out there?”

“Not sure, but it must’ve been pretty serious for them to come here of all places for help. You mind finishing up the eggs while I go change out of these workout clothes and tell them the food’s ready?”

(Y/N) gave him a small smile and took the spatula from him. “’Course not.” Sam patted her shoulder and left the kitchen, and to distract herself from her worries, she began absentmindedly humming to herself while she finished scrambling the eggs.

“Hey, a tune I actually recognize.” (Y/N) glanced away from the stove to see Steve standing near the refrigerator. “You really enjoy music, don’t you?” When she tilted her head in confusion, he elaborated, “I took a wrong turn in the hall and caught a glimpse of your room. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many records and CD’s in my life.”

(Y/N) shrugged noncommittally. “Yeah, I guess I do. There’s something comforting about music to me…it makes me feel like no matter what happens in my life, good or bad, music will always be there for me.” She cringed at how cheesy her words sounded out loud and quickly added, “That probably doesn’t make much sense, though, just forget it…”

Steve’s mouth curved into a small smile. “I think I understand a little…thanks for the clothes, by the way.”

Switching off the burner, (Y/N) took the pan of scrambled eggs and began dishing the food onto two plates. “They fit all right? My brother and his girlfriend visited a while back and forgot some of their things here, they’re about your guys’ size…”

“Yeah, they fit great.” He adjusted the hem of his dark grey shirt before glancing back up at her. “So, were you humming ‘Pistol Packin’ Mama’ just now ‘cause something good’s happening or something bad?”

(Y/N) thought for a moment before answering. “Both, I guess. You guys are both safe, which is obviously good, but something’s going on. Something that must be pretty bad for you to come to the two of us for help.”

Steve stared at her with curious eyes for a few seconds before giving her a brief nod and accepting the plate of food she handed him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, Hydra’s been infiltrating S.H.I.E.L.D. this whole time…” Sam said, his eyes trained on his clasped hands. After they had eaten, Steve and Natasha had explained everything that had happened, from their mission on the Lemurian Star to the missile strike at Camp Lehigh where they discovered that the terrorist organization had been growing and thriving within S.H.I.E.L.D. for seventy years. “And they’ve been using this Winter Soldier guy to silence anyone unlucky enough to uncover their existence…”

“ _And_ they’re planning something big so they can try to take control of the world. Again.” (Y/N) finished, glancing away from Sam and across the table at Steve, who nodded mutely.

Natasha paced beside the table with her arms crossed over her chest. “So, the question is: who in S.H.I.E.L.D. could launch a domestic missile strike?”

“Pierce.”

“Who happens to be sitting on the top of the most secure building in the world,” (Y/N) pointed out, rubbing her forehead as a headache began to form and wishing that she could play some of her music to calm herself down.

Steve frowned, and she could practically see the wheels turning in his head. “But he’s not working alone, Zola’s algorithm was on the Lemurian Star.”

“So was Jasper Sitwell.”

Natasha’s comment made Steve sigh. “So, the _real_ question is: how do the two most wanted people in Washington kidnap a S.H.I.E.L.D. officer in broad daylight?”

“The answer is: you don’t.” (Y/N) hadn’t noticed that Sam had stood until he dropped a familiar file onto the table in front of Steve. When the super-soldier picked up the file and shot him a questioning glance, Sam added, “Call it a resume.”

“Sam…” (Y/N) jumped to her feet and stood in front of her friend as Steve and Natasha glanced through the file. “Are you sure?”

Sam gave her a comforting smile and nod as Natasha spoke. “Is this Bakhmala? The Khandil Khandil mission, that was you?” She glanced at Steve with an impressed smile. “You didn’t say he was para-rescue.”

“Is this Riley?”

(Y/N) gently took Sam’s hand as he nodded, knowing how difficult his decision was for him. He wouldn’t be getting back into all this if he didn’t believe that it was the right thing to do, she thought grimly, his hand tightening slightly around hers as the others continued to read over the file.

Natasha flicked through the pages of the file, looking up at Sam with a furrowed brow. “I heard they couldn’t bring in the choppers because of the RPG’s. What did you use, a stealth chute?”

“I’d check the next page if I were you.” (Y/N) couldn’t help but smile, remembering when Sam had told her about his military service and shown her the pictures of the EXO-7 Falcon pack. That’s when she began calling him ‘Birdbrain’ in retaliation to his awful nickname for her, but her plan backfired when he ended up taking the insult as a term of endearment.

Steve and Natasha flipped the pages of the file and the super-soldier’s eyebrows raised in surprise as he looked up at them. “I thought you said you were a pilot.”

“I never said _pilot_.” Despite the serious situation, Sam couldn’t keep the smirk off his face as he spoke and (Y/N) rolled her eyes in amusement.

“I can’t ask you to do this, Sam. You got out for a good reason-”

Sam cut off Steve with a wave of his hand. “Dude, Captain America needs my help. There’s no better reason to get back in.”

“…Where can we get our hands on one of these things?”

“The last one’s at Fort Meade, behind three guard gates and a twelve-inch steel wall.”

Natasha shrugged when Steve glanced at her. “Shouldn’t be a problem.”

(Y/N) frowned as the three of them began collecting the files and standing, suddenly getting the feeling that they were preparing to leave without her. In that moment, she knew that she had a decision to make; if she stayed, then her life and career would continue normally as long as all three of them managed to stop Hydra, but she knew she’d feel guilt for not doing her part to help and if they couldn’t stop Hydra, then the organization would succeed in taking over the world and countless lives would be destroyed. But if she left with them, she would become a target; her life, her family, her career…it would all be at risk if Hydra put out a warrant for her arrest; if it meant helping save the world and everyone in it, though, then there was really only one right answer…

“I’m coming with you guys.”

“Um…” All three of them stopped and looked at her, and Natasha was the first to break the silence as she glanced over at Steve. “I thought you said she was a writer.”

“Yes, I _am_ a writer, but I’m still coming with you.”

Steve shook his head, his jaw set with determination. “(Y/N), it’s bad enough that Sam’s being dragged into all this but at least he knows what we’re up against. You’d be putting your life at risk by coming, not to mention your career.”

“You’re right, Steve.” (Y/N) squared her shoulders and stared down the super-soldier, her back straight and her arms crossed. “I’m not a soldier, or a spy or even a _goddamn_ Avenger, I’m just a civilian who wants to help save the world _that I live in_. You three are about to risk everything to stop Hydra, and I’ve got no right to do any less than you, no matter what my occupation is. It’s true that the price of freedom’s a high one, but it’s a price I’m willing to pay. Besides,” She couldn’t keep the smug tone out of her voice as she spoke. “I already know how to abduct Sitwell in broad daylight without alerting Hydra.”

Steve kept his eyes on hers for a moment before turning to Natasha, who had an impressed look on her face as she shrugged. “I like her, and we could always use another person on our side, Steve.”

“I’ve known (Y/N) for over a year now; if she says she can help, then she can help.” Sam gave her a small wink, and (Y/N) felt a rush of gratitude for her best friend. “I’ll keep an eye on her, make sure she doesn’t get into trouble.”

Steve sighed and turned back to her; she only raised her eyebrows in expectation as she waited for his response. After a moment, he finally gave her a nod, the corner of his mouth lifting into a small smile. “You’re in. Now, you said you had an idea about getting Sitwell…?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Linked below is the Spotify playlist for this fanfiction, and it'll be updated every time I post a new chapter. Enjoy!  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4BenknAqQQnOWY8NmSa23V


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Disclaimer for a brief description of a panic attack*

_Chapter Six_

“How in the _hell_ did you come up with this plan?”

(Y/N) and Natasha were using binoculars to stare out the window of an abandoned apartment at a small courtyard situated between a tall building and a crowded outdoor café, where Sam was currently sitting and enjoying an iced tea; Steve was sitting in Sam’s car and parked around the corner, at the ready just in case the plan didn’t work. Once (Y/N) told the others her plan to abduct Sitwell and they’d taken a quick trip to Fort Meade for the EXO-7 Falcon pack, Natasha had hacked into the Hydra operative’s digital planner; she discovered in his itinerary that he’d be in a meeting with Senator Stern all morning in the building across the street, and then she’d managed to remotely clone Director Pierce’s cell phone.

Glancing away from her binoculars, (Y/N) flashed Natasha a bright smile. “It wasn’t that hard; part of it’s from a scene in my novel, actually. This is how Amelia – she’s the main character, by the way – tricks an enemy agent into giving her important information on her case.” She pulled the laser pointer integral to their plan out of her pocket and twirled it around her fingers. “Pretty cool, huh?”

“You’re in the wrong line of work, (Y/L/N). You’d make a good spy.”

(Y/N) chuckled bashfully and turned back to her binoculars. “Thanks, but I think I’ll stick to writing. Less of a risk of being shot at, you know.”

“Well, not many writers would just up and volunteer to try and take down a covert terrorist organization.” Although she said it in an off-hand manner, (Y/N) could tell that Natasha was genuinely curious about her off-the-cuff decision.

“I’m not usually an impulsive person, but what I said earlier was true: I have no right to do any less than what the three of you are doing. I won’t sit by and watch as Hydra destroys everything we know, especially knowing that there are ways I could help stop them. Besides, Sam and I are a team, have been for over a year now. I can’t let my best friend put himself in danger without being by his side.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes at herself and gave the spy an embarrassed smile. “But please don’t tell him I said that, Nat, it would only inflate his already-enormous ego.”

“Secret’s safe with me, hot-shot.” Natasha paused for a moment. “You remind me a lot of Rogers. To tell you the truth, I think that’s half the reason why he let you onto the team.”

(Y/N) frowned at her comment, her eyes still looking through her binoculars. “What’s the other half-?” Just then, a group of men walked out of the building across the street. “Wait, is that Sitwell?”

Natasha looked through her own binoculars and nodded. “Yeah, the bald guy with the glasses.” She quickly set down the binoculars and typed out a quick text on her phone. “Time to see if your plan works, 007.”

Through the binoculars, (Y/N) saw Sam glance down at his phone and dial a number from his seat at the café. The group of men headed towards the parking lot, leaving Sitwell alone on the building’s steps. (Y/N) smiled to herself as she watched him pull out his phone and press it to his ear; he became skittish as he listened to Sam talk. Watching Sitwell’s lips, she carefully aimed her laser pointer and pressed the button just as he asked, _“And why would I do that?”_

She let out a triumphant laugh when Sitwell glanced at the red light on his tie and looked around in fear before hanging up the phone and walking towards Sam. “Yes!” She punched the air and put down her laser pointer and binoculars. “ _Dynamite with a laser beam_!”

“‘Killer Queen,’ yeah?” Natasha grinned and nodded appreciatively. “Steve was right, you’ve got a great taste in music. C’mon, we’d better head down to the car…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fifteen minutes later, Steve was throwing Sitwell across the rooftop of an apartment building; Natasha strode confidently after him, and (Y/N) tried her best to hide her unease as she trailed behind them. Although she’d thoroughly researched torture methods for her novel, she wasn’t quite sure she could stomach seeing them performed in real life. Stay calm, Captain America wouldn’t do those things to someone else, she thought to herself, fiddling with the edge of her grey leather jacket, although he _did_ mention that they might do that one thing if Sitwell doesn’t talk. She looked up from her combat boots in time to see Steve say, “Tell me about Zola’s algorithm.”

“Never heard of it.”

“What were you doing on the Lemurian Star?”

“I was throwing up, I get seasick.” Steve grabbed Sitwell roughly by the collar and forced him to the edge of the rooftop, but the man only smiled condescendingly up at the super-soldier. “Is this little display meant to insinuate that you’re gonna throw me off the roof? Because that’s not really your style, Rogers.”

(Y/N) couldn’t see Steve’s face, but she assumed that he was smiling as he smoothed out the crumpled lapels of Sitwell’s jacket. “You’re right. It’s not. It’s _hers_.” After quickly stepping aside, Steve watched calmly as Natasha kicked Sitwell directly in the chest and he toppled off the roof, screaming the whole way down. Despite (Y/N) knowing what their plan was, she still felt her stomach lurch uncomfortably as the man’s screams grew fainter the longer he fell; she’d never mentioned her extreme fear of heights to any of them, but in that moment she wished she had.

Natasha turned to Steve. “Oh wait, what about that girl from Accounting, Laura…?”

“Lilian. Lip piercing, right?”

“Yeah, she’s cute.”

Steve shook his head and looked down. “Yeah, I’m not ready for that.”

(Y/N)’s confusion and slight jealousy at their conversation shifted to awe as Sam suddenly flew up and threw Sitwell back onto the roof while he landed gracefully on his feet. (Y/N) rolled her eyes in amusement as her best friend flashed her a wink, his wings quickly folding back into his pack as he approached them.

Sitwell, no longer composed and condescending, was shaking with fear on the rooftop as he held his hands up. “Zola’s algorithm is a program for choosing Insight’s targets!”

“What targets?” (Y/N) asked, an uneasy feeling settling in the pit of her stomach.

To her surprise, Sitwell sneered. “And who the hell are you? The personal assistant?”

Steve grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and squeezed until he began wincing. “ _What targets?_ ”

“You! A TV anchor in Cairo, the Undersecretary of Defense, a high school valedictorian in Iowa City, a first-time novelist writing about the Cold War in D.C…” Everyone’s eyes snapped to (Y/N)’s, and she could feel the blood leaving her face as she fully registered his words. “Bruce Banner, Stephen Strange, anyone who’s a threat to Hydra! Now, or in the future.”

Natasha, her face grim, drew closer to Sitwell. “The future? How could it know?”

“How could it not? The twenty-first century is a digital book. Zola taught Hydra how to read it. Your bank records, medical histories, voting patterns, e-mails, phone calls, your damn SAT scores. Zola’s algorithm evaluates people’s past to predict their future.”

“And what then?”

Sitwell rubbed his temple agitatedly. “Oh my God, Pierce is gonna kill me.”

Steve shook him again. “ _What then?_ ”

“…then the Insight helicarriers scratch people off the list. A few million at a time.”

A heavy silence hung over the group as they all absorbed what Sitwell had said; millions of people around the world are going to be killed by Hydra if we don’t stop them, (Y/N) in horror. She tried to avoid thinking about it, but she couldn’t help but replay Sitwell’s words over and over in her head: _A first-time novelist writing about the Cold War in D.C., a first-time novelist writing about the Cold War in D.C., a first-time novelist writing about the Cold War in D.C…_

“Okay, time to head out.” After yanking Sitwell roughly to his feet, Steve turned to Natasha and Sam. “You two mind escorting him back to the car?”

“’Course not, Cap,” Natasha smirked as she and Sam grabbed Sitwell’s arms and dragged him towards the rooftop doorway, Sam throwing a concerned glance at (Y/N) as he went.

“You okay, (Y/N)?”

As Steve’s words left his mouth, (Y/N) registered the ringing in her ears and that she was taking rapid and shallow breaths; her heart hammered in her chest and through her clouded vision, she could barely make out Steve’s worried face right before her. “Can’t…can’t breathe…”

“Okay, it’s okay, um, here,” Stepping forward, he reached for her hand but stopped himself short. “Is it okay if I hold your hand?” (Y/N) gave a short nod and he took her hand, gently placing her palm against his chest so she could feel his strong heartbeat. “You’re okay, just try and slow your heartbeat to match mine. Can you do that for me? Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth, like this.” He began doing the breathing exercise, and she shakily began copying him. “You’re doing great, (Y/N), just keep breathing.” To her surprise, he stopped the breathing exercise and began quietly humming a familiar tune; it was so faint beneath the dim ringing in her ears that she could’ve dismissed it as her mind tricking her if not for the feeling of reverberation in his chest. (Y/N) gradually felt her body responding positively; her breathing began to even out and as her heartbeat returned to normal, her vision cleared and the ringing faded away into nothing.

Once his humming came to an end, she looked up at him with an insecure smile. “‘Smoke Gets In Your Eyes,’ The Platters. Thank you. I-I don’t know what came over me, I was fine until…well, you know. All at once, everything suddenly became very… _real_ for me.”

Steve nodded solemnly. “No one will think any less of you if you decide to go home. You’ll be safer, and-”

“No, no way.” She firmly shook her head, her mouth set in a determined line. “I’m staying. Just because I found out I’m a possible Insight target and had a panic attack doesn’t mean that I’m suddenly okay with sitting back while Hydra plans to kill millions; if anything, I’m even _more_ invested in this fight than I was before.” She felt the corners of her mouth lift into a smirk. “If you’re trying to get rid of me, Rogers, then you’re going to have to try a little harder than that.”

When she finally stopped talking, she registered something akin to admiration in Steve’s small smile, and she willed herself not to blush. They stared into each other’s eyes for a few more moments, and that’s when (Y/N) realized that one of Steve’s hands was still resting on her waist and the other was gently holding her hand against his chest, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing small circles over her knuckles.

Steve seemed to realize the same thing because a moment later, he quickly let go of her and took a couple of steps back. With a pinkish tint to his cheeks, he glanced toward the rooftop doorway and replied, “Well, if you’re sure that you’re okay then let’s go. We’ve got a launch to stop.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Linked below is the Spotify playlist for this fanfiction, and it'll be updated every time I post a new chapter. Enjoy!  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4BenknAqQQnOWY8NmSa23V


	7. Chapter 7

_Chapter Seven_

From the time they’d all gotten into Sam’s car to when they were finally speeding along on the freeway, Jasper Sitwell had talked non-stop, much to everyone’s immense annoyance.

“Hydra doesn’t like leaks.”

Sam clenched his jaw as he drove. “So why don’t you try sticking a cork in it?”

“Amen.” (Y/N) grumbled, rubbing her temples to relieve her headache. How the hell did I end up having to sit next to this idiot, she asked herself as she tried and failed to block out the Hydra operative’s nervous mumbling.

Sitting forward in her seat beside (Y/N), Natasha remarked, “Insight’s launching in sixteen hours, we’re cutting it a little bit close here.”

“I know,” Steve looked at Sitwell through the rear-view mirror and continued. “We’ll use him to bypass the DNA scans and access the helicarrier’s directly.”

Sitwell gasped. “What?! Are you crazy? That is a terrible, terrible idea!”

Just then, there was a _thump_ on the roof of the car and an arm smashed through the window, grabbed Sitwell by the scruff of the neck and threw the screaming man into the oncoming traffic. (Y/N) shrieked and covered her head as the man on the roof began firing shots into the car; with a determined look on her face, Natasha went into action. She unbuckled (Y/N), pushed her to the side, quickly leapt over the seats and into Steve’s lap, then pulled his head down while she kicked Sam to the side with her foot just as bullets hit where all their heads had been.

Steve quickly pulled the gearshift, causing the car to lurch to a stop and the man to fly off the roof of the car. To (Y/N)’s horror, the man easily flipped in midair and rolled until he ended in a crouched position, using what looked like a metal arm to dig into the asphalt and halt his sliding. Once he came to a stop, he yanked his fingers out of the ground and slowly rose to his feet. He was dressed in black leather from head to foot, with a mask and goggles covering most of his face and a completely metal left arm gleaming in the sunlight. The Winter Soldier, (Y/N) thought with dread.

Natasha drew her gun and pointed it at the man but before she could fire, their car was slammed into from behind and (Y/N) flew into the front seat on top of Natasha’s legs. Their car gained speed and the Winter Soldier jumped back onto the car; a moment later, his metal arm smashed through the windshield, grabbed the steering wheel and yanked it out.

“Shit!”

Natasha began shooting at the roof, but the Winter Soldier jumped onto the car behind them before the bullets could hit him. Their car began to weave dangerously down the freeway after they were rear-ended, hitting other vehicles and crashing into the cement barrier; just as their car launched into the air and tipped to the side, Steve tightened his shield straps on his arm and shouted out “Hang on!” before grabbing the three of them and slamming his shield into the door, breaking it off as they fell straight down.

They hit the road with a hard jolt and slid nearly twenty feet before they came to a stop; as she and Steve clambered to their feet, (Y/N) realized that Sam and Natasha weren’t with them but as she turned to look around for them, she was shoved roughly to the side by Steve as something exploded near her. Crawling behind their overturned car, she let out a startled yelp when a barrage of bullets made contact with the metal and glancing at the bent side mirror, she saw a reflection of the Winter Soldier and a handful of black-clad men slowly approaching as they fired their guns.

“(Y/N)!” Sam crouched as he ran to her, pausing only to grab her hand and yank her to her feet; they stooped and ran as bullets flew past them, finally ducking behind a silver car for cover. Sam pushed her behind the car first before dropping and covering her body with his. “C’mon we’ve gotta keep moving, keep your head down!” He took her hand again and pulled her close as they ran down the highway, ducking behind different cars for cover. When they finally stopped behind an abandoned SUV, her lungs were burning but there were no sounds of gunfire approaching. “Stay here, I’m gonna go help-”

“Sam, I can help too, just-!”

“(Y/N), just listen to me for once and stay here!” Without waiting for a reply, Sam dashed back around the car towards the gunfire.

“Yeah, ‘stay here’ my ass,” She muttered before glancing around for something to defend herself with; her eyes finally fell on a long cylindrical piece of metal wedged under the SUV’s roof. She grabbed it and dug the heels of her boots into the ground as she pulled with all her might; it finally gave way, causing her to stagger back a few steps before regaining her balance. After creeping to the corner of the SUV, she peeked around the corner and was relieved to see no black-clad men nearby; seeing it as her opportunity to act, she crouched low and darted around the SUV as she made her way back to where Sam would be.

Once (Y/N) had made it to an overturned Mini Cooper, she finally had Sam in her sight; she watched in awe as he crept behind a man holding a machine gun, disarmed him with his pocketknife and kicked him over the highway’s cement barrier. Her amazement was short-lived, however, when she noticed that three more men were running towards Sam, their guns holstered and replaced with deadly-looking knives. Thinking fast, (Y/N) darted to the cement barrier separating the two sides of the highway, jumped over it and crouched as she ran. Before an oncoming car could hit her, she jumped back over the barrier to find herself behind the group of men.

Sam was fighting all three of them at once, but she could see that he was close to being overwhelmed; wasting no time, she charged at the men, swinging her makeshift weapon and hitting one square on the head. His unconscious form dropped to the ground and one man quickly turned to her as the other continued to fight Sam. (Y/N) took a swipe at the man with her weapon, but he caught it with one hand and tossed it to the side before advancing on her with his knife. Recalling her self-defense training, she kicked the knife out of his hand and used her foot to shove his knee out from under him. His knees hit the ground and with a powerful side-kick to the head, his bloodied and unconscious form toppled over.

“Damn…” She looked up to see Sam standing before her, an impressed look on his face. “Self-defense class?”

“Yep, that and I watch a lot of action movies.” (Y/N) smiled proudly before glancing around the causeway. “Where’s Steve and Natasha?”

“Down there somewhere. Here’s the plan…”

Moments later, Sam had a fallen Hydra agent’s machine gun in his hands and was exchanging fire with the others below the freeway. (Y/N) heard him shout, “Go, I’ve got this!” as she ran to their overturned car but she couldn’t tell if he was speaking to Steve or Natasha. Skidding to a stop, she reached through the car’s broken window and pressed a button, smiling humorlessly to herself when she heard the trunk click open. “Sorry about your car, Sam.” She quickly went to the trunk and breathed a sigh of relief, pulling out Sam’s miraculously undamaged wings. Hoisting the heavy pack into her arms, she ran back to him, ducking around overturned cars and dodging the small fires that had sparked along the highway. “Here!”

Sam fired a couple more rounds below before tossing the gun down and turning to her. “You ready to see the Falcon in action?”

“I think I still prefer Birdbrain.”

After fastening the pack around his chest with precise hands, Sam ran towards her, wrapping his arms around her waist as his wings deployed and they lifted into the air. Since she was deathly afraid of heights, (Y/N) squeezed her eyes shut and clung with all her might to Sam’s broad shoulders. God, I hope that Steve and Natasha are all right, she thought amidst her panic; several moments later, she felt them rapidly descend and suddenly slam into something solid.

Her eyes shot open as her feet touched asphalt to see the Winter Soldier, minus his face mask and goggles, staggering to his feet and aiming a gun at Steve.

“Oh my God,” (Y/N) breathed, instantly recognizing the man standing before them from his display at the Smithsonian. “That’s impossible…”

Before the black-clad man could pull the trigger, an explosion of fire surrounded him, causing (Y/N) to look away and cover her mouth as the smoke made her cough; she looked back to see where he went, but he was gone. Turning to where the explosion originated from, she noticed Natasha leaning heavily against the side of an abandoned Jeep and lowering the grenade launcher she’d just fired, wincing as if she were injured.

Before (Y/N) could start towards the spy, sirens wailed and they were quickly surrounded by several black vans and Hydra agents, their guns drawn as they shouted at them to drop their weapons. Great, what do we do now, she thought fearfully, looking up at the circling helicopter and trying not to think about the likely outcome of their dire situation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“It was him. He looked right at me like he didn’t even know me.”

All four of them were sitting in the back of a moving S.T.R.I.K.E. van; (Y/N) was trying to soothe her panicked nerves and ignore her throbbing leg, where a Hydra agent kicked her to make her kneel on the ground as she was being detained. Sam kept his eyes on the two masked Hydra agents sitting next to him, Natasha struggled to stay awake as the bullet wound on her shoulder continued to slowly bleed out and Steve stared numbly at the floor of the van; his arms and legs were restrained to his seat but he made no attempt to break out of them, the knowledge of his old friend’s fate clearly weighing heavy on his mind.

I can’t even imagine what must be going through his head right now, she thought sadly, not that it matters much now. She’d read enough books and seen enough movies to know that this was most likely the end of the line for the four of them. Mom always warned me that I’d wind up dead in a ditch if I hung out with the wrong crowd, she thought with a humorless smile, but I bet she didn’t foresee her daughter befriending a group of fugitive superheroes. But still, there were worse ways to go than attempting to protect the world from a dangerous organization like Hydra, and she allowed that thought to give her some slight comfort.

Sam turned away from the agents to briefly glance over at Steve. “How’s that even possible? It was like seventy years ago.”

“Zola. Bucky’s whole unit was captured in ’43 and Zola experimented on him. Whatever he did helped Bucky survive the fall. They must’ve found him and…”

“None of that’s your fault, Steve.”

“You couldn’t have known that any of that would happen,” (Y/N) added, comforting the super-soldier while also attempting to snap him out of his stupor. “And you shouldn’t blame yourself for something you had no control over.”

Steve didn’t seem to register their words as he continued to blankly stare down at the floor. “Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky.”

Sam looked over at Natasha with concern before turning his attention back to the two Hydra agents. “We need to get a doctor here. If we don’t put enough pressure on that wound, she’s gonna bleed out here in the truck.”

One of the guards raised their electric rod and pointed it at Sam, who quickly leaned away from its sparking end; suddenly, they flipped it in their hand and jammed it into the other guards’ stomach before kicking them roughly in the head. The second guard dropped to the floor of the van as the first guard took off their helmet to reveal a brunette woman; whoever she was, Steve and Natasha looked pleasantly pleased to see her so (Y/N) breathed out a small sigh of relief.

“Ah, that thing was squeezing my brain!” The woman glanced at (Y/N) and Sam before looking over at Steve with a raised brow. “Who’re these guys?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Linked below is the Spotify playlist for this fanfiction, and it'll be updated every time I post a new chapter. Enjoy!  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4BenknAqQQnOWY8NmSa23V


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Disclaimer for a brief mention of a panic attack*

_Chapter Eight_

After cutting through the floor of the S.T.R.I.K.E. van with what (Y/N) excitedly thought was some sort of mini lightsaber, hurrying into a windowless van at the next stoplight and speeding along for what felt like an eternity, they stopped and the door finally opened to reveal a large stone structure similar to a water facility or dam. This certainly _looks_ like a top secret hideout, (Y/N) thought as she watched Steve jump out of the van and turn to help Natasha out next, like something straight out of my novel.

Once they all clambered out of the van, the woman who’d introduced herself as Maria Hill led them into the stone building, where they were immediately met by a short man with curly-grey hair. “GSW, she’s lost at least a pint.”

“Maybe two!” Sam added, helping Steve support the weakening spy.

The man hurried up to them. “Let me take her.”

“She’ll want to see him first.” Maria led them down a darkened hallway to a lit room and pulled back a hanging plastic sheet to reveal a man with an eyepatch lying in a hospital bed. (Y/N) exchanged a confused look with Sam while Steve and Natasha gasped in recognition.

The man in the hospital bed smiled tiredly. “About damn time.”

“Nick?” Natasha breathed, her eyes struggling to remain open.

“Doc, you should take care of Romanoff. And Captain,” The man’s eye moved from Natasha and the doctor to (Y/N) and Sam, causing (Y/N) to feel slightly unnerved under his critical gaze. “Care to introduce me to your new friends?”

After their brief introductions, Director Fury had suggested that she and Sam go clean themselves up but (Y/N) sensed that the two of them didn’t have much of an option; they’re probably discussing whether or not to trust us, she thought as she washed her grimy face clean in a small bathroom, not that I blame them for being skeptical. It seemed that there were very few people that they could trust at the moment, so she wasn’t offended that they were possibly a little wary of her and Sam.

“How’re you holding up?”

(Y/N) turned to see Sam standing in the doorway of the bathroom, with his arms crossed over his chest and a concerned look on his face. “I’m doing okay. I think I pulled a muscle kicking that one Hydra thug, though, and my other leg hurts from when that other Hydra asshat kicked _me,_ but-”

“That’s not what I meant.” She glanced away from him but he continued anyway. “(Y/N), you had a panic attack back there when you found out you’re an Insight target. There’s no way you’re just doing ‘okay’ after that.”

Turning back to him, she met his worried expression and gave him a smile. “I’m fine now, Sam, I promise. I’m still a little shaken up about all this, of course, but I’m okay. Steve and I had a good conversation on the roof earlier, and I-” She stopped talking and raised her brow when she caught sight of Sam’s signature smirk. “What?”

“Nothing, it’s just nice to see you getting along so well with the guy. So, you two had a, ah, _conversation_ , huh?” Sam hid his grin behind his hand before continuing with a muffled voice. “And it was a _good_ one, you said?”

(Y/N) crossed her arms over her chest and gave him the dirtiest look she could muster as she tried and failed to cool her blushing cheeks. “Samuel Thomas Wilson, you’re damn lucky we’re in the middle of stopping a seventy-five-year-old terrorist organization from taking over the world or else I’d ram my foot right up your-”

“Hey, guys.” They turned around to see Steve standing in the doorway, a bemused smile playing on his lips while he glanced between the pair of them. “Nat’s shoulder’s patched up and Fury’s ready for us all to regroup now.”

“I’m guessing that’s really code for, ‘Congratulations, Fury decided that he could trust you.’” Sam quipped and gave (Y/N)’s shoulder a pat as he headed out of the room. “C’mon, Booksmart, no lagging behind for another ‘ _good conversation_.’”

Steve walked alongside her as they followed Sam through the halls. “You sure you two weren’t separated at birth?”

“You know what’s funny? My actual brother and I get along perfectly fine, we always have. It’s almost like the universe is punishing me for growing up with a nice sibling by giving me Birdbrain over there. But _Que Sera, Sera, whatever will be will be_ and all that.” Steve gave her a confused look. “Sorry, I forgot; that’s a Doris Day song from the ’50’s, and it was even in an Alfred Hitchcock film.” They walked in silence for a few moments before she summoned the courage to ask, “Are you okay, Steve?”

“I will be once we stop that launch.” Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed him give her a fleeting glance. “What about you?

“Um, ditto.” Swallowing nervously, she opened her mouth to ask about the Winter Soldier but lost her nerve at the last second, so they walked together in silence until they came to a meeting room.

Director Fury sat beside Maria Hill, his arm in a sling and his gaze focused on the open file before him. Maria was resting her arm on a large black case and across from her sat Natasha, her shoulder freshly bandaged and her face stony. Once in the room, (Y/N) opted to stand beside Sam and watched with observant eyes as the director picked up a picture of a younger-looking Alexander Pierce from the file.

“This man declined the Nobel Peace Prize. He said, ‘Peace wasn’t an achievement, it was a responsibility.’” He tossed the photograph back down into the table with more force than necessary. “See, it’s stuff like this that gives me trust issues.”

Natasha spoke up, her face looking grim. “We have to stop the launch.”

At her words, the director shook his head. “I don’t think the Council’s accepting my calls anymore.” He pulled the black case closer to him and opened the lid, revealing three electronic chips.

“What’s that?”

Maria’s eyes glanced around the group as she explained, “Once the helicarriers reach three thousand feet, they’ll triangulate with Insight satellites, becoming fully weaponized.”

“We need to breach those carriers and replace their targeting blades with our own.”

“One or two won’t cut it. We need to link all three carriers for this to work, because if even one of those ships remains operational…a whole lot of people are gonna die.”

Director Fury nodded. “We have to assume everyone aboard those carriers is Hydra. We need to get past them, insert the server blades and maybe, just maybe, we can salvage what’s left-”

“We’re not salvaging anything.” (Y/N) looked over at Steve, who had the determined look of a soldier on his face. In that moment, (Y/N) saw the skinny young man from Brooklyn within his burning gaze as he addressed the director. “We’re not just taking down the carriers, Nick, we’re taking down S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“S.H.I.E.L.D. had nothing to do with it.”

Steve clenched his jaw as he spoke, “You gave me this mission, this is how it ends. S.H.I.E.L.D.’s been compromised, you said so yourself. Hydra grew right under your nose and nobody noticed.”

The director frowned. “Why do you think we’re meeting in this cave? I noticed.”

“And how many paid the price before you did?”

Signing wearily, Director Fury leaned back in his chair. “Look, I didn’t know about Barnes…”

“Even if you had, would you have told me? Or would you have compartmentalized that too? S.H.I.E.L.D., Hydra…? It all goes.”

Maria looked at Director Fury and nodded. “He’s right.”

The director turned to Natasha, who only nodded in agreement, then he focused his gaze on (Y/N). Feeling the eyes of everyone around the table on her, she stood straight and met the director’s questioning gaze. “I know that I’m new to all this stuff, but…” She looked beside her at Steve. “I’m with Cap on this one.” The corner of Steve’s mouth twitched upwards.

“Don’t look at me.” Sam crossed his arms over his chest as he glanced over at (Y/N) and Steve. “I do what he does, just slower.”

Director Fury’s expression was hesitant, but he gave a nod to the super-soldier and heaved a sigh. “Well…looks like you’re giving the orders now, Captain.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After going over their plan to stop Pierce and the helicarriers, Steve left to retrieve his old uniform from the Smithsonian and Natasha made her way to Reagen National Airport to intercept Councilwoman Hawley’s transport to the Triskellion, while everyone else was busy gearing up at Fury’s secret base of operations. Before hurrying off to prepare their communication devices for the mission, Maria had pulled (Y/N) aside and pressed a hastily-wrapped bundle into her hands.

“If you’re gonna go on this mission with us, (Y/L/N), then you’d better look the part.” She’d given her a curt nod before walking away.

Now, (Y/N) stood in the women’s bathroom and looked at her reflection in the smudged mirror. She was dressed in a dark blue form-fitting uniform similar to Maria’s, with the S.H.I.E.L.D. logo embossed on the shoulder and sturdy combat boots laced tight.

“Never thought I’d be a part of something this crazy,” She smoothed out the wrinkles on the fabric and gave her reflection a tiny reassuring smile. On the inside, though, she was frightened of failure and what that failure would mean for the rest of the world. “But it’ll be interesting while it lasts…”

On her way to their rendezvous point outside the base, (Y/N) spotted Steve, dressed in his classic World War II Captain America uniform and with his shield strapped to his back. She debated with herself for a moment before jogging to catch up with the super-soldier, calling out, “Hey, wait up!”

Steve stopped and turned, waiting patiently with his hands resting in his belt buckle as she made her way over to him; he gave her an approving nod when she finally reached him, his azure eyes taking in her new outfit before meeting her gaze. “Nice uniform, it suits you.”

“And you pull off the vintage look very well…listen, Steve, um, about Bucky…” He opened his mouth to protest but she quickly cut him off. “I think you’re right to try and save him from Hydra. That’s why you stole your old uniform to wear on this mission, isn’t it? To try and jog his memory of you, of his old life.” He slowly nodded and she looked down, her eyes level with the star on his chest, before continuing. “If Hydra had taken Sam and done the same things to him, I don’t think I’d be able to stop myself from trying everything I could to save him. Just…” Her eyes flicked back up to meet his. “I saw what he did on that causeway, what he’s fully capable of. Promise you’ll be careful?”

Steve nodded again, and she could see the concerned look he was giving her under his helmet. “You be careful, too, (Y/N). Sam and I can take care of the Insight crew, but you’re our eyes and ears. Stick with Hill, remember the plan and with a whole lot of luck, we just might be able to pull this off.”

(Y/N) gave him a small salute and joking grin. “Sir, yes, sir. Now, in the immortal and _iconic_ words of Freddie Mercury, ‘On with the show’!”

“…Who’s Freddie Mercury?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Linked below is the Spotify playlist for this fanfiction, and it'll be updated every time I post a new chapter. Enjoy!  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4BenknAqQQnOWY8NmSa23V


	9. Chapter 9

_Chapter Nine_

“We’re gonna have a helluva good story to tell the vets after all this, you know.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes at Sam’s comment as they followed Steve and Maria through the Project Insight headquarters. It had been surprisingly easy breaking into the building and they’d only been met with slight resistance from the guards, three of which (Y/N) was proud to have taken down by herself thanks to her handy self-defense skills. “Gary’ll never believe that I helped Captain America take down Hydra, he thinks I’m just a sweet lady who gives out cookies after meetings.”

“Yeah, but wait ’till he finds out you’ve got some pretty sweet moves for a writer.”

“Focus up, guys.” Steve commanded, and they fell silent. Moments later, they came to the door which led to the Project Insight control room and Steve knocked as Maria and Sam raised their guns. The door swung open and the technician swallowed nervously as his eyes fell on Steve and the guns pointed at him. “Excuse us.” The technician held his hands up and stepped aside as they entered the control room; Sam and Maria ushered all the workers out of the room, while (Y/N) and Steve began preparing the equipment to stop the launch.

“Okay, the comms are online and fully operational.”

Steve finished typing on one of the keyboards and took off his helmet. “Security camera feed for the headquarters and the entire Triskellion’s up.”

(Y/N) walked over to stand beside him. “Now what?”

“Now it’s time for an announcement.” He leaned forward and pressed the button next to the intercom before speaking. “Attention, all S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. This is Steve Rogers. You've heard a lot about me over the last few days, some of you were even ordered to hunt me down. But I think it's time you know the truth. S.H.I.E.L.D is not what we thought it was, it's been taken over by Hydra. Alexander Pierce is their leader. The S.T.R.I.K.E. and Insight crew are Hydra as well. I don't know how many more, but I know they're in the building. They could be standing right next to you. They almost have what they want: absolute control. They shot Nick Fury, and it won't end there. If you launch those helicarriers today, Hydra will be able to kill anyone that stands in their way, unless we stop them.” Steve paused for a moment to let his words sink in. “I know I'm asking a lot…but the price of freedom is high, it always has been, but it's a price I'm willing to pay.” (Y/N) perked up when she recognized her own words. “And if I'm the only one, then so be it. But I'm willing to bet I'm not.”

As Steve turned off the intercom and straightened, Sam smirked. “Did you write that down first, or was it off the top of your head?”

“Inspired in part by a writer I know.” Steve glanced her way and gave her a small smile before turning back to Sam. “Time to go, Sam.” They turned and walked out of the room, but not before Sam shot her a reassuring grin.

“So, you ready to save the world, _Agent_ (Y/L/N)?” Maria asked, and (Y/N) gave her a confident nod.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Eight minutes, Cap.” Maria spoke into her comm, her eyes trained on the monitor before her that showed the helicarriers beginning their ascent. “(Y/L/N), status?”

“Falcon’s in the air, Cap’s on the Alpha carrier.” Looking away from her binoculars, (Y/N) gave Maria a weak smile. “This is a little…surreal, I guess, watching all you superheroes do your thing. A little nerve-wracking, too, to be perfectly honest.”

Maria returned her smile. “That it is. If you wanna talk about superheroes, though, you can’t leave yourself out.” (Y/N) bashfully ducked her head. “I’m serious! You don’t have to be a secret agent or a super-soldier to be a hero, you just have to be willing to stand up for what’s right no matter the consequences.” Her smile faltered and she quickly turned her attention to her comm. “Falcon, status?”

Whipping around to face the window, (Y/N) anxiously followed Sam’s actions as he flew through the air, avoiding heavy gunfire from pursuing Hydra jets. She breathed a sigh of relief when he finally managed to enter the Bravo carrier, but it caught in her throat when she watched him quickly exit, closely followed by what looked like heat-seeking missiles. She lost track of Sam’s quick movements until the missiles hit the side of the helicarrier, when she finally spotted him fly into the newly-formed entrance.

“Two down, one to go.” Maria also sighed in relief, the crease between her brows disappearing as she called out, “Alpha and Bravo are locked, currently waiting on Charlie. How’s everything in the Council going?”

(Y/N) hurried over to another monitor and turned it to face her. “Looks like everything’s going according to plan. What’s the position of Charlie Carrier?”

“Charlie Carrier’s forty-five degrees off the port bow.” She suddenly pushed her chair backwards and the control room’s door burst open as she drew her gun and fired at the Hydra agents. They dropped to the ground and she walked back to monitors. “Six minutes.”

On her own monitor, (Y/N) noticed two more Hydra agents about to enter the control room through the opposite door; hurrying over to the door, she stood beside it and once it swung open, kicked the gun out of the first agent’s hands before sucker-punching him in the face. The second agent pointed her gun at her chest, but (Y/N) quickly grabbed it and slammed the barrel into her forehead, knocking her unconscious backing out of the way as she fell to the ground beside the first agent.

(Y/N) hurried back to her monitor, flicking through each camera feed but stopping short when she caught sight of Rumlow, the Hydra agent who’d apprehended the three of them after the Winter Soldier’s attack on the causeway. From the looks of it, he was on his way up to the Council to stop Natasha and Director Fury. There was no one standing in his way, so she made a snap decision that she knew there would be no turning back from.

“Maria, do you have some of those stun-disc-things Natasha uses?” Maria nodded and passed her a handful, which she tucked in her uniform belt’s pocket before pulling out a folded piece of paper. “I’m going to go hold Rumlow off as long as I can.” She placed the paper on the desk beside the monitor. “If anything happens to me, please give this note to my family and Sam.” (Y/N) turned away and hurried out of the room as Maria’s protests echoed in her ears.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gasping for air, (Y/N) staggered to her feet and continued up the stairs, leaving an unconscious Hydra agent on the floor behind her. Once she reached the forty-first floor, she opened the stairwell door and crept out into the hall, the blaring emergency alarm masking the sound of her footsteps; when she came up to the end of the hall, she pulled her pocket mirror out of her belt and used it to peer around the corner. The mirror’s reflection didn’t reveal anything at first, but just as she decided the coast was clear, Rumlow appeared. Oh God, you really didn’t think this thing through, she thought fearfully, taking in the Hydra agent’s muscular frame. But then the thought of millions of people around the world being killed in the name of Hydra came to mind and allowed her to steel her nerves for what she was about to do.

Slipping the mirror back into her belt, (Y/N) pulled out a stun disc and flattened herself against the wall. Rumlow’s footsteps grew louder and the moment he turned down her hallway, she threw the stun disc at him and ducked out of the way as he took a clumsy swipe at her while he convulsed. However, her victory was short-lived; he quickly ripped the stun disc off his chest and threw it to the ground.

With a menacing smirk, he approached her as she slowly backed away. “You’re the girl from the causeway, the one who’s been traveling with Rogers and Romanoff. Did you _really_ think you’d be able to stop Hydra all by yourself? Soon, Hydra will own the world and there will only be order, but not for you.”

“You talk too much, asshole.” (Y/N) gave him a swift kick to the groin and elbowed him in the face before sprinting down the hall. Just as she suspected, Rumlow was quick to follow; unfortunately, she’d misjudged his speed and moments later, he grabbed her by the shoulders and tossed her against the hard glass window.

“You’re in way over your head, lady.” He punched her in the stomach and watched as she doubled over in pain. “You left your boring, nine-to-five life and for what? To die for a lost cause.”

Still bent over, (Y/N) lunged forward and tackled Rumlow to the ground before hitting him hard on the jaw. She hurriedly stood and tried to get away, but not before he grabbed her ankle, causing her to crash to the ground and bump her head on the marble.

Her vision swimming, she could barely make out Rumlow standing above her. He moved to hit her again, but stopped suddenly and brought a hand up to his earpiece. “I’m on forty-one, headed towards the south-west stairwell.” He glanced down at her struggling form with a sigh, reaching for the knife strapped to his waist. “I guess I’ll have to make this quick, so-”

A figure ran directly into Rumlow and they began fighting; staggering to her feet, (Y/N) shook her head to clear her vision and gasped when she realized that it was Sam who had come to her rescue. The two men exchanged blows and she prepared to enter the fray and help him, but Maria’s voice suddenly sounded through her comm. “ _(Y/L/N), you’d better get to the Council!_ ”

“I’m on it.” She replied. Giving her best friend one last look, (Y/N) turned and hurried as fast she could back down the hall to the stairwell.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What happened to sticking to the plan?” Natasha demanded the moment (Y/N) ran into the Council chambers. She was leaning heavily against Director Fury and dressed in her standard black leather uniform; as (Y/N) gaped wordlessly around the room at the lifeless bodies on the ground, including Alexander Pierce, the spy added, “Hypocritical of me to judge, I suppose. Things got a little dicey up here; what’s everyone’s status?”

“I have no clue about Maria or Steve, but Sam was fighting off Rumlow the last I saw him.” (Y/N) struggled to keep the fear out of her voice as she spoke, worried out of her mind for her companions. “We need to get out of here, this building’ll be destroyed by those falling helicarriers any minute now.”

On her way up to the Council, (Y/N) had heard Maria’s status updates; hearing that the Hydra agents had deployed the algorithm, she’d immediately begun preparing herself for the inevitable. She thought about her mother and brother, and hoped that if it somehow reached them, her letter would help them understand why she did what she did. But the destruction she’d braced herself for didn’t happen, and Maria announced that the helicarrier’s were firing on each other. Unfortunately, that’s when her comm had broken down so she couldn’t ask the agent for Sam or Steve’s current statuses.

Director Fury let out a humorless chuckle. “Don’t need to tell me twice; chopper’s this way.” He and (Y/N) helped support Natasha as they made their way to the helicopter. (Y/N) broke away from them to swing the helicopter’s door open; the other two lifted themselves up and just as (Y/N) readied to follow them, there was the sound of a gun firing and a sudden searing pain erupted along the side of her left thigh. She yelped and clamped a hand over the wound, ducking as she heard the sound of more shots; her stomach churned uncomfortably when she felt sticky, warm blood seeping out between her fingers and she willed herself not to look down at it.

“(Y/N), take my hand!”

(Y/N) gritted her teeth before standing and clasping Natasha’s hand so the spy could pull her into the helicopter. She was vaguely aware of the helicopter taking off and someone slipping a headset over her ears, but all her attention was focused on the bloody wound on her leg. Although partially obscured by the fabric of her S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform, she could make out a rounded hole in her flesh but the goriness of the wound churned her stomach and forced her to turn away.

“Those helicarriers are too close, we need to leave!” Director Fury called out from the pilot’s seat.

(Y/N) grunted in pain as she struggled to sit up. “No! You’ve…you’ve got to find Sam and Steve! Where’s Maria?! Let me out, I need to find them and- _argh_!” She cried out when Natasha pressed a towel to her wound. “Natasha, we can’t-!”

The spy shook her head, her determined expression unwavering. “We’re not leaving anybody behind, (Y/N). You’re going into shock, so I need you to try and regulate your breathing, okay?” Until Natasha pointed it out, (Y/N) hadn’t been aware of her erratic breaths so she quickly concentrated on slowing them down. “You’re doing great! Now, hold this so I can get the first aid kit.” (Y/N) did as she said and pressed the towel firmly to her wound with quaking hands, squeezing her eyes shut so Natasha wouldn’t see her tears of pain. She felt herself begin to drift, either because of the pain or the blood loss, but another sharp pain caused her eyes to fly open and her breath to loudly intake. “Sorry, but the tourniquet needs to be tight.”

“N-no problem. What’s the diagnosis, then, doc?”

“Through-and-through wound. You’re lucky; there’s nothing to dig out. But we need to get you to a hospital before you lose any more blood.”

(Y/N) couldn’t see outside the helicopter very well from her spot on the floor, but she could certainly hear the cacophony of sounds outside caused by the helicarriers crashing down into the Potomac below. “The others. Where’s-?”

“I don’t know, but-”

“ _Please tell me you got that chopper in the air!_ ”

(Y/N) sighed in relief when her best friend’s voice rang through their headsets and Natasha quickly asked, “Sam, where are you?”

“ _Forty-first floor, north-west corner!_ ”

“We’re on it, stay where you are!” The helicarrier took a sharp turn to the left, nearly causing (Y/N) and Natasha to keel over. Maneuvering herself into a sitting position, (Y/N) watched out of the open helicopter door as one of the helicarriers crashed into the side of the Triskellion. Smoke and rubble filled the air and chunks of concrete and metal fell into the Patomic far below.

“ _Not an option!_ ”

The helicopter suddenly tilted towards the right, knocking (Y/N) and Natasha over and causing (Y/N) to yell and clutch her leg wound. A moment later, Sam crash-landed into the helicopter, knocking off its other door just as Director Fury righted the air craft and sped away from the wreckage.

“Forty-first floor! _Forty-first!_ ”

“It’s not like they put the floor numbers on the outside of the building!”

Sam huffed in annoyance at the director’s sarcastic retort and turned his attention to (Y/N), his eyes filled with concern as they looked her over. “You okay, (Y/N)?”

Instead of answering, (Y/N) let out a sob and threw her arms around him; he responded quickly, wrapping his strong arms around her waist and holding her tightly. As silent tears streamed down her face, she took comfort in his embrace and finally choked out, “I thought I lost you, Birdbrain! Don’t you _ever_ scare me like that again, you hear me?”

“Sounds fair.” Sam laughed. “And if you ever scare me again like you did back there with Rumlow, Booksmart, I’m gonna sell your baby to a junkyard.” They pulled apart and Sam wiped a stray tear off her cheek. “Injuries?”

“A few bruises, cuts, sore shoulder, a lump on my forehead and a gunshot wound, but that’s all I-” (Y/N) stopped mid-sentence. “Wait, where’s Steve and Maria? Did they get out in time?”

“Hill just radioed in, said she got out okay, but she doesn’t have a location on Steve,” Natasha, (Y/N) realized with a sudden flash, looked uncharacteristically frightened. “She says that he was still on the helicarrier when it went down.”

(Y/N), already weak from her various wounds and the blood loss, promptly felt herself faint on the helicopter’s floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Linked below is the Spotify playlist for this fanfiction, and it'll be updated every time I post a new chapter. Enjoy!  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4BenknAqQQnOWY8NmSa23V


	10. Chapter 10

_Chapter Ten_

(Y/N) wheeled herself down the hallway of the hospital, reveling in the feeling of independence while attempting to ignore the annoying fluorescent lighting reflecting off the shiny floor. “Thanks for letting me do this myself, Sam.”

“No problem.” Sam replied as he slowly walked beside her. “I think you scared the nurse back there when she asked if you needed help. Once you’re released tomorrow, we’ve gotta start working on your people skills.”

“I had my ass kicked and was shot by several members of a seventy-five-year-old terrorist organization four days ago, Birdbrain, so forgive me if I’m not feeling entirely polite at the moment.” Despite the harsh words, she was smiling. Turning the corner, she immediately spotted two armed guards standing watch in front of one of the rooms. “Urgh, could they be any more obvious?”

Sam snorted. “Subtlety’s not exactly in the vocabulary of the U.S. government, Booksmart.” They approached the guards, and the darker haired one turned to face them. “Sam Wilson and (Y/N) (Y/L/N) to see Captain Rogers.” After glancing at their driver’s licenses, the guard stepped aside and Sam held the door open so that she could wheel herself in.

Steve was sitting up in his hospital bed, fully engrossed in the newspaper he was reading. From what (Y/N) could see, the wounds Sam had described to her had fully healed and she simultaneously blessed and cursed the super-soldier serum; blessed, because it had brought Steve back from the brink of death after being shot and falling hundreds of feet into the Potomac, and cursed, because she longed for her own wounds to heal just as quickly. And it should be illegal for him to look so handsome after almost dying, she thought as she quietly regarded his near-perfect features.

After a brief moment Steve looked up with a small smile, but that smile slowly fell once his eyes landed on her and he took in her haggard appearance. “(Y/N).”

“I’m just gonna wait outside, so if you need anything…” Sam murmured, gently patting her on the shoulder before exiting the room and closing the door behind him.

Steve opened his mouth, but (Y/N) quickly raised her hand to quiet him. “I already know what you’re going to say, Steve, and it’s okay. I made the decision to fight alongside you guys, fully aware of the risks involved; hell, I’m just thankful to even be alive right now because for a while there I didn’t think I’d survive the day, but I don’t regret my decision, not for a minute. We saved the world, after all.”

“I know.” His blue eyes bored into hers as he let out a small sigh. “And I respect your decision, (Y/N), more than you could know. Not many civilians would be willing to act so selflessly, to lay down their lives for others, but you did it without a moment of hesitation. I only wish that you could go back to your old life just as easily.” When she tilted her head in confusion, he elaborated. “Your novel, your career as a writer…the government might take all that away from you for helping me. They’re not exactly happy that S.H.I.E.L.D. and its intelligence is gone, and they’re looking for people to blame.”

“Yeah,” (Y/N) wheeled herself closer to Steve’s bedside, nervously biting her lip. “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that too. I guess that everything will be decided tomorrow on Capitol Hill; Nat came by my room for a visit earlier and told me the news. She also mentioned that there’s a good chance they won’t release all the details about what went down to the public, including mine and Sam’s involvement, so fingers crossed, I guess.”

Steve nodded, a worried frown on his face as he continued to assess all her injuries. “How’re you holding up? Sam mentioned that you were in a bad shape…”

At the mention of her best friend, (Y/N) couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “He’s just overreacting; I only have a gunshot wound on my left thigh, a muscle contusion on the other thigh, a moderate-grade concussion, bruises on every inch of my body and…” She trailed off once she noticed Steve’s raised eyebrow and let out a sigh of defeat. “Okay, Sam _might’ve_ been appropriately-reacting, but don’t tell him that. I know I look like hell right now but it definitely looks a lot worse than it really is.” Feeling awkward under his sympathetic gaze, she quickly asked, “So, um, are you being discharged soon?”

“Tomorrow. And you?”

“Tomorrow as well. They’re giving me a pair of crutches; this wheelchair’s just a precaution, since I injured both my legs, but they said that I have enough mobility to handle crutches whenever I have to get around. And thank God for that, too, ‘cause if one more person asks if I need to be pushed I’m going to lose it!” They laughed at that. “Since we’re being discharged on the same day…did you want to come and stay with Sam and me for a little bit? There’s more than enough room, and Natasha’s going to be there too. Besides,” (Y/N) couldn’t help but smile. “When I’m not resting, I could help you go through that list of yours. Somebody still needs to introduce you to Freddie Mercury, after all.”

Steve’s eyes searched hers and a smile slowly formed on his lips as he nodded.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“A-are you being serious? _Please_ tell me you’re not joking, Greg…”

_“This is one hundred percent on the level, (Y/N)! Mike wants to begin the publishing process as soon as you finish that last chapter up; I swear I didn’t tell him about the whole Triskellion thing, he decided this all on his own. But speaking of that, with all you went through this past week your future writing’s gonna be so inspired. Not that it wasn’t before, of course, I just meant-”_

(Y/N) chuckled. “I know what you meant, Greg. I’ll have that chapter finished by the end of this week and I’ll be sure to send it right away. You’ll have to edit it a little, though, since this stupid concussion’s making it difficult to concentrate on forming grammatically-correct sentences.”

_“Not a problem! Just don’t forget to get Captain America’s autograph for me, I wanna frame it and put it on my desk right next to mine and Mara’s wedding photo.”_

“You’re still a nerd.”

_“And you’re still amazing. I’ll see you later, (Y/N)!”_

(Y/N) laughed and hung up before turning to look at Natasha, who was sitting in the driver’s seat of the yellow Volkswagen Bug. “My novel’s getting published. It’s actually getting published!”

“Congratulations! You’d better send me a signed copy when it comes out, hot-shot.”

“Wait, you’re…you’re leaving too?”

Natasha nodded, her eyes remaining focused on the road. “Yep. I mentioned it to you yesterday but…well, that concussion of yours might’ve made you forget some of the details. I’m gonna go and figure out a new cover, maybe dig into Hydra’s past activity a little bit and see what I can find. Not sure how long it’ll take, so it might be a while before any of you see me again.”

Looking down at her lap, (Y/N) remained silent for a moment before glancing back up. “Well, you know where to find me. If you _ever_ need somewhere to stay, Nat, you’re always welcome at my place.” At that, the corners of Natasha’s mouth curved into a soft smile. “I think they said the grave’s in Plot B, just up ahead.”

Parking the car on the curb of the lawn, Natasha hurried around the car to help (Y/N) out of her seat and give her both the crutches the hospital had issued her and her messenger bag. “You gonna be okay walking on your own? The grass is a little uneven...”

“I’ll be fine, thank you. You go on ahead, I’ll be right there.” (Y/N) and Natasha shared a smile, the former knowing this exchange would be their goodbye. A moment later, the spy turned and walked over to where three men stood facing a gravestone. (Y/N) slowly followed, still uneasy walking with the assistance of crutches, and watched as the hooded man turned and walked away from Natasha and the others. She raised her eyebrow when the man suddenly began walking in her direction and came to a stop before her.

“Hello, Director.”

Director Fury gave her a humorless smile. “Just Fury, Miss (Y/L/N). I’m not the director of anything as of last week. Rogers and Wilson just turned me down, but you might be interested; I’m headed off to Europe to track down the strays that jumped ship, and I could use an agent like you, Miss (Y/L/N).”

Stunned, (Y/N) stammered out, “I-I’m not an agent, though. I’m just a writer.”

“Coulda fooled me. Not many people I know would do what you did, and even fewer would insist that their heroics be kept secret from the public; that’s a special kind of person in my book. So, what do you say?”

“…I’m honored, really, but I think my place is here.” Her eyes drifted towards her group of friends before flitting back to Fury. “It was nice of you to offer, though.”

Fury shrugged and adjusted his dark sunglasses. “Suit yourself. Keep an eye on those three, all right? And if you ever wanna switch careers, just let me know.” With that, he turned and walked away, and (Y/N) continued hobbling towards Sam and Steve, who were watching Natasha’s retreating form as they stood beside Director Fury’s gravestone.

“It might be the concussion talking but this all seems a little familiar, don’t you think?”

They turned around; Steve grinned and Sam let out a laugh as they realized how similar it all was to their fateful first meeting. “Yeah, I guess it does. This is the part where you lecture us on your weird-ass taste in music, Booksmart.”

“I’ll do you one better, Birdbrain.” With her roommate’s help, she withdrew a wrapped package from her messenger bag and offered it to Steve. “I know you two are going after Bucky and I know it might take a while to find him, so I wanted to give you something special you could take with you.” With a confused smile, Steve ripped off the wrapping, opened the box and carefully withdrew the brand-new MP3 player and earbuds. “I’ve been on continuous bed-rest for the past few days with almost nothing to do but sleep; needless to say, I had a ton of free time to download over three thousand of my favorite songs onto that thing. Well, Sam did the actual downloading, since the doctors said I had to limit my screen time, but I _was_ there to direct him. And there’s a little bit of everything on it, too, from classical to punk-rock and everything in between so while you’re away, you can still catch up on all the things you’ve missed in music while you were on ice.”

“This is…” Steve looked up, his blue eyes twinkling with an unknown emotion. “This is amazing, (Y/N). Thank you.” He reached down and carefully hugged her, all while her heart hammered away. “Take care of yourself.” Was it her imagination, or did his arms linger around her a moment too long? Before she could think too much about it, he pulled away and smiled. “Nat mentioned just now that you’re officially being published; I’ll be sure to swing by and get a signed copy of that book of yours when it comes out.”

(Y/N) grinned. “I’m counting on it, Rogers. And if you ever need someone to talk to while you’re away…well, you’re a super-soldier. I’m sure that if anyone could find a way to get ahold of me, it’s you.” Although she said it in a casual tone, she gave Steve a pointed look in hopes that he’d realize she was actually offering her ear if he needed someone to open up to; the super-soldier looked a little taken aback but after a brief moment, his guarded expression relaxed and he gave her a barely discernable nod. “Now c’mon, you two, let’s go get some take-out before you two leave!”

“Okay, but _I’m_ picking the music this time, Booksmart.”

As they walked through the cemetery and slowly made their way back to her car, (Y/N) knew deep down that although they were parting ways for the time being, hers and Steve Rogers’ lives would continue to intertwine in some way or another. And as she and Steve exchanged a shy sort of smile, the lyrics of a familiar song played in her still-concussed mind:

_We’ll meet again, don’t know where, don’t know when, but I know we’ll meet again some sunny day…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Y/N) (Y/L/N) will return in Avengers: Age of Ultron
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading, and I hope that you enjoyed it! Stay tuned for the next story in this on-going series!
> 
> Linked below is the Spotify playlist for this fanfiction. Enjoy!  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4BenknAqQQnOWY8NmSa23V


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